On the precipice of defeat
by MissFlesh
Summary: The higher ranked shinigami have ordered the banned Vizards to be disposed of, claiming that they will turn at anytime to serve Aizen. That was exactly what Ichigo did when the shinigami started hunting him for being one. Ichigo centric. No pairings.
1. Coming Back

- **On the precipice of defeat** -

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**Chapter 1: Coming Back**

A lonely moon shone across a cold desert.

Its glow soothed the sands and the dead trees that cast dark shadows across the wastelands surface that was Hueco Mundo.

The night was empty, as hollow as the vacant chambers of a cold, dead heart.

Across the vast space of the endless sands, a massive building towered high in the never ending night. Las Noches white marble dome melted into the sands as if cowering away from the dead eye in the sky.

Few windows grazed the towers of the palace, but in one of them a small figure sat, who slumped deeper in the chair he sat in.

The boy was thin and gaunt. His skin a deathly pale and glowing faintly white in the moonlit room. Ichigo searched for something to look at, but the sky held no stars to see.

Without knocking Grimmjow, the 6th Espada, entered the young teen's quarters, disturbing Ichigo's distant thoughts. He walked over in a lazy manner with his hands in his pockets and sat down on the table Ichigo had previously been leaning his feet on. The boy stiffened, unsure how to react in front of the larger man.

"Oh, I'm not going to fight you today, don't worry. Gave you a good beating before, didn't I?" Grimmjow laughed. Ichigo squirmed in his seat and sat up straight to get further away from the man. He didn't know what the Espada was getting at.

"Then why did you even come?" Ichigo hissed. The Espada had never had any other reason to come here before.

"Geesh, I can do whatever I please," Grimmjow grinned.

Ichigo scoffed at that and trailed a hand over a still tender bruise. Both Ichigo and his inner hollow, Shirosaki, were weary of the constant fights they were put through. There was no need to fight each other when beaten by the Espada. The inner hollow wasn't pleased with the arrival of the arrancar any more than Ichigo.

"Can't you leave us alone then?" Ichigo asked, referring to both himself and Shirosaki.

"Ha! What do you do in here all the time that's so important that I can't visits, hmm?"

"Nothing." Ichigo shrugged. "It's not like we can get out on our own." The door was sealed with Kidõ and could only be opened from the inside by someone that knew how. Ichigo was in a sense, a prisoner of his own choosing.

"Anyway, I'm going to go eat," Grimmjow said, ignoring what Ichigo had said and got up. As the door opened to him without any hesitation, Grimmjow stopped. "You should come too," he added.

Ichigo mumbled something inaudible without looking at the man, but got up to leave anyway, knowing that he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Exiting his quarters, Ichigo adjusted the red sash around his hip. He wore a uniform like every man or woman wore; white jacket, pants and black boots.

The boy trotted down the hallway, walking behind the Espada. He trailed his hand over his chest as he yawned; feeling the gaping hole there. Ichigo had had it for almost year now since he had run away from Soul Society and the real world.

It was under the middle of the war that Soul Society had found out about the group called Vizard, Army of masks, moving again and that Ichigo was one of them; a hybrid, a forbidden mix between a hollow and a shinigami. Good mixed with bad.

The highly ranked military shinigami had ordered the hybrids to be disposed of. They claimed that the Vizard would turn at any time to serve Aizen and therefore considered a threat. Aizen had turned away from Soul Society himself and formed his own army of heartless creatures, hollows, in order to take on Soul Society. When the shinigami had started hunting Ichigo, he had unwillingly done exactly that, joined Aizen as he had no other place to go.

Aizen did not judge out of what kind of spirit-energy Ichigo had, or that there was a hollow on the inside of his soul. Aizen had seen Ichigo's call for help and taken him in, even if it had not been out of kindness in all places. Some times Ichigo wondered if any.

So Ichigo had joined Aizen, even if against his own will and had done was he was told, in order not to get killed. The Arrancar that served under Aizen's command, hybrids as well but Hollow from the beginning instead of shinigami, had became his allies and to a point teachers. They had showed Ichigo the way to stop the urge of the hollow; to stop devouring souls and how Aizen had stopped the constant hunger and made the rush for life not so very addicting.

The hollow place where Ichigo's heart had once been had formed while the shinigami had hunted him for months. The constant hiding and fear of being killed at any second had been too much.

The blades of Soul Society had constantly been drawn and ready to kill him as soon as he was spotted. It had been devastating for Ichigo to witness his former friends turn their swords at him just because of orders. The feeling of death only seconds behind him made him eat his very heart out just to stay alive.

Soon the two passed the doors into the large dining room, making Ichigo snap out of his dark thoughts. They went up to the long, broad food-counter and took a bowl of the same goo they were always fed; a grey substance tinted a strange grey-green colour.

The teen searched the massive room for a free place to sit and marched over to one before anyone would take it. Grimmjow followed close behind despite Ichigo's odd looks at his unusually friendly behaviour and took the seat next to him.

The Espada took the salt he had brought with him to pour almost all of it over his food. Grimmjow knew of course that the salt would only fall out of the hole in his gut, but he didn't care; as long as it at least tasted something other than disgusting before he swallowed it, the arrancar was pleased.

After sitting in silence with the disgusting food for quiet some time, two other arrancar walked up to their table; Nnoitra and Ulquiorra. They took their place next to the 6th Espada. Ichigo drew back a bit, not sure what was going to happen. Company wasn't something the boy was used to, as the Espada only talked to him when they were forcing the boy to fight.

Nnoitra frowned while making circles in his food with his spoon and shuddered with disgust as he swallowed. The substance quickly set out what it was made to do; spread its way into the body, into every nerve to awaken them, making Nnoitra's pupils dilate and entire body shake in a tremor of pleasure and pure disgust as his body gained new life. It forced the instincts to kill away and made every hollow less like a monster, just what happened when a hollow consumed a living soul in the real world. The food worked as a replacement for it, just a lot less pleasant.

"Man; I hate this…" He mumbled between shudders.

Ichigo didn't answer, conversations like this was nothing he was used to have. His face drew together in a grimace and with a shudder of his own he swallowed his food.

"We have orders to lie low for the moment from master Aizen." Ulquiorra informed with no emotion whatsoever in his voice. "You, Ichigo, however, are ordered to spend some time with your family."

"What?" Ichigo spat; nearly chocking on his own food. He hadn't expected to be spoken to. "Why?"

"I do not know his intentions, but it is an order and you will go, whenever you like it or not," Ulquiorra went on.

"Tch… damn it," Ichigo said through gritted teeth, more to himself than the others. He knew there was no point in arguing.

Finishing his food and standing up, Ichigo left the dining hall and headed for his small quarters without any further words to the Espada.

'_King; none of us wants to go!_' Shirosaki suddenly mumbled within the teenager's mind, his bright voice making Ichigo cringe.

'Shut up. We'll go there for a few days and get it over with! You know Aizen just wants us out of the way,' Ichigo thought back in an angry tone. 'And I am happy to oblige,' he added, his tone full of mockery.

'_Still!'_

'I know. We'll just stay out of the house and avoid everyone the best we can,' Ichigo rubbed his eyes.

'_I guess…'_ His hollow sighed. _'Why can't they just let us sit in our quarters and stay out of they like they want…'_ Shirosaki mumbled, but suddenly stiffened. _'Wait. What if Aizen found out about the training that we're not supped to be doing?'_

Ichigo stopped in his tracks. He had been warned not to leave his quarters, yet he had been forced regularly to do it with the help of the 6th Espada's servant. He had been lead to the training building to be fought with for entertainment for the others. The Espada had little amusement at their disposal and it seemed that beating the newest assets in the palace was the best thing you could get.

'Just great!' Ichigo though to himself as he rushed out from his private quarters before the doors closed, his cleaver Zangetsu now securely fastened on his back. What if Aizen wouldn't allow him to came back because of it? Leaving Ichigo to stay in the real world where the soldiers from Soul Society could find him was worse than locking him up in his quarters. 'Damn it_…_'

Resuming to his destination, Ichigo hoped for the best. Maybe he could manage for just a while and then come back, and hope that Aizen wouldn't notice. He never saw the man himself anyway, just his servants delivering messages.

When he headed outside of the palace at the front gates, he spotted one of the servants of Las Noches.

A buzzing sound rang in Ichigo's ears as a thin almost invisible line appeared in front of the stiff servant's hand. The line exploded into a black gaping hole, tearing the air and space into threads. Cool air from the other side blew out of it and the hole stretched and ate itself wider. The black portal hung before him, waiting for anyone to go through its fangs. The portal was a Gargantuan, a gateway to the world of the living.

Ichigo stepped into it and the portal closed around him to reopen a block away from the house where his family lived. After stepping out of the rift, Ichigo quickly focused on masking his massive spirit energy better, so he wouldn't get unwanted attention. He and the hollow within had leaned to mask it from no other than the girl that had turned him a shinigami; Rukia. She had also helped him escape from Soul Society when they had turned their swords against him.

The street before him was empty and Ichigo walked slowly toward his house; wanting to get there as late as possible. He wished his family would be asleep when he arrived; but unfortunately it was too early for that. The wind blew strongly in his hair and clothes and it was as cold in the real world as it had been in the endless night of Hueco Mundo.

Walking up the door, Ichigo stopped in front of it. Nor Ichigo or his inner demon were sure if they were going to knock. The last time they had visited was eight months ago after all. That was when he had screamed at his father had he hated him, which to a small degree he still did. He frowned deeper has his hand hovered over door knob.

Slowly the boy stepped inside, closing the door as quietly as he had opened it. He hid in the hall, not daring to go any further, but turned his head when he heard the sounds of a TV-programme coming from the living room. He sighed nervously and let a hand run through his orange hair, straightened his clothes and then stepped into view before his family.

"Ichigo…?" Karin's voice rang through the room. Her voice full was of disbelief.

Yuzu gasped and her face lit up with a big smile. She couldn't see ghosts as well as her older sister could, yet she rushed forward, running blindly at the blurry blackness that she didn't doubt was her older brother and when she hit it, she wrapped her arms around what she assumed was his legs.

"Big brother, you're back!"

**End of Chapter**


	2. Starting over

**Chapter 2: Starting over**

Ichigo slowly made his way up the stairs and into his old room. His family didn't seem to want to make his pesky mood go away, sure he was happy to see them, but they were hard to be around because they were human.

As he entered his own room, the sight of his own real, human body wasn't pleasing.

It had probably been lying hocked up to the life support machine and the inhaler ever since he left. Ichigo wondered why his father even bothered to keep it at home; he could easily take it to the hospital and claim that his son had ended up brain-dead after hitting his head too hard somewhere. Ichigo knew his father could easily write some believable medical report.

But no matter how dreadful is looked he had to live inside it. It was harder for Soul Society to find if he was. A sigh escaped from his now tired face as he walked up to the body and pulled the tubes that were connected to the respirator out of its lungs; before shutting the respirator off. He removed the IV and other various kinds of tubes that were attached to his body's arms. His frown deepened as he realised that now he had to hurry or it would suffocate.

"Need help, son?"

Ichigo jerked up and spotted his father, Isshin, standing in the door. Ichigo had been careless and too focused on his body not to have noticed his father coming home from where ever he had been.

They stared at each other for a bit until his fathers gaze slowly made its way over Ichigo's neck and down to Ichigo's chest as if too see if the hole could be spotted even if his clothes covered it.

"Um… yes, actually…" Ichigo mumbled. He didn't want to hurt the body more than it already was. He straightened and crossed his arms over his chest making Isshin look him in the eyes again. He smiled faintly at Ichigo as if unsure on how to approach the body with Ichigo standing next to it. Ichigo stepped back, to make room for Isshin to take care of it.

"You should have taken out the inhaler last Ichigo, your suffocating yourself right now, you see." His father said in a serious tone. "You should have waited until I came back to help you from the start son."

"Whatever."

Isshin wasn't surprised at the rude answer and continued to detach his son's body from the machines it was attached to. He knew his son did not like him much anymore, the reasons unknown to him, at least in detail.

"There, that should do it; you better jump in fast because your lips are turning blue. I'll go get some aspirin that you can take in a bit; since you will have a headache once you're in your body. I'm sure of it."

Isshin quickly glanced at his son before leaving the room to bring what he said he would go get.

Ichigo eyed his body. It was indeed turning blue. He knew it wouldn't nice to go inside it; but he had to and did so.

Pain shot through his body as every scar his soul had received was transferred, every part of him hurting as he pulled and moved his muscles. His skin burned and his fingers twitched uncontrollably, his right arm feeling as if the skin was about to burst. Ichigo harshly sucked in air and his eyes shot open. It felt strange to look with human eyes again as everything seemed foggy and dark. Breathing was hard; it felt like he was breathing sand.

He coughed hard, his lungs burning and he gasped for air, slowly getting oxygen back into his body's system. Ichigo could hardly feel his hands and wondered if he still had any legs.

Faintly felt a hand helping him sit up and a glass was being pressed against his lips. With shaking hands Ichigo tried to hold it himself, but with his numb limbs he barely felt that he was even touching it.

Isshin helped him drink and the water caressed his dry throat and he quickly swallowed most of it until his father told him to drink slower before he went to get some more.

Every part of Ichigo's body was shaking uncontrollably after not being moved for so long. He reached up to scratch his itching eyes, tears flowing from them to make the irritation stop. The way his hands quivered only made him poke them with his knuckles though, making them hurt even more. A whimpering sound escaped him.

"It's alright Ichigo. I'm here to help you." His father was back with another glass of water and Ichigo thankfully swallowed it as well, slowly this time.

After drying his cheeks and trying to clear his throat, he sat up properly with the help of his father. His breath was raged and throat still sore. A moment of just sitting and catching his breath made Ichigo calm down considerably and to his discomfort Ichigo noticed that Isshin was trying to rub life back into his legs. Ichigo glared at his father through teary eyes.

"Don't touch us!" Ichigo squeaked at his father and tried to push his hands away.

"I have to Ichigo or you won't get your feeling back in your legs any time soon!" Isshin said in a firm voice and pushed Ichigo back in a lying position. The teen fell back with a grunt and it made him wonder if he even had any muscles left.

Irritation flared at it and at the rush of emotion Ichigo felt his muscles tighten and he coughed violently again. His father's hands rubbing against his legs became a lot more apparent, and most uncomfortable.

"Don't touch us you fucking shinigami!" Ichigo's raw voice screeched and he slapped his fathers hands away the best he could. "Just… just leave us alone," he managed to slur out before his words got stuck in his stinging throat.

Isshin seemed a bit offended over that his son didn't seem to be able to look past the fact that he was a shinigami.

"I haven't been in duty for a very long time son, and you know it. I will never turn my blade against you, no matter what you may or may not have done," He sighed. "I'll come back and check on you in an hour, you need to rest your body." With that said Isshin left Ichigo alone in his room.

'Well, this started well…' he thought sarcastically and slumped into the soft bed, feeling that the madras had formed after every curve of his body after having been lying in it for so long without moving. He even felt hits of painful bedsores on his buttocks and thighs.

'_Ah, don't worry about it King. And don't fall for his talk, I'm sure he will go against us sometime like all the others did. Just like he didn't tell us about him being a shinigami even after you had been one for a at least a year!'_

'Yeah, yeah, I know. Just shut up now, we need to rest,' Ichigo dismissed the conversation, he didn't want to think bad of this father, even if it was hard with him being full of lies. Maybe not lies, but at least a lot of untold things. Secrets.

Eventually they managed to fall into a light, but well needed slumber. Unfortunately they were awakened shortly after by their father shaking their shoulder carefully. Ichigo grunted and turned to lie on his side, his back facing his father, but Isshin simply walked around to the other side of his bed to face him and put a small tin with different coloured pills in them on the bedside table.

"These pills should make you feel better in an hour or so if you taken them now," He said in a low voice before leaving again. As he watched Isshin leave, he spotted his sisters standing and looking at him worriedly in the small hall in his room. His father pulled them with him and closed the door behind him.

Ichigo eyed the tin with suspicion before reaching over to grab it. It proved harder than he expected since their hand was still shaking slightly and Ichigo couldn't feel that he was touching it at all. He frowned and clenched his fingers around the tin with all his might and when it at least looked like he had a firm grip he quickly put it on his bed before dropping it.

He grunted and licked up the pills from the tin with his tongue, it was too hard to pick them up one by one with his hand. Somehow he managed to swallow himself with the pills without chocking on them.

_Stupid body. _Every minute in it made him hate it even more. Ichigo sighed, moved his arm to lie over his eyes and rested until the medicine would take effect.

He had fallen asleep again, he noticed when he woke up, this time on his own. He glanced at the watch what stood on the small night stand next to his bed. He had been asleep for almost four hours.

The teen blinked wearily and sat up slowly, feeling that he had feeling in most of extremities. He had to get dressed. Ichigo knew that if he didn't come down soon someone would come up and make him go down stairs anyway. Ichigo wobbled out of bed, supporting himself on his chair to get to the wardrobe. All his clothes still hung there as if he hadn't been gone at all. It felt strange.

Tight black jeans slipped over thin legs and he put on a simple long sleeved shirt over his upper body. He had to admit it did feel good to wear human clothes again. The big, poofy arrancar clothes could get annoying.

Ichigo slowly made his way down the stairs, his hand clenched tightly around the railingso he wouldn't fall. His legs were still very sore and hard to stay balanced on.

Looking up from the ground he had been staring at to keep his balance, Ichigo heard someone move in the room and approach him. It was Karin who looked like she wanted to help him walk.

"It's fine. We don't need help." He wobbled over to the kitchen sink and turned on the water tap the best he could.

_Damn it, my hands are still numb…_ Ichigo's frowned deepened frown as he leaned down to drink for the running water, his throat still dry. Karin still stood behind him looking worried. Ichigo turned around and glared at her.

"I said we're fine!"

"Why are you so hostile Ichigo?" She couldn't help but to ask.

"Because...!" Ichigo first hissed, but the sighed and looked away. "You wouldn't understand..." He mumbled and went over to the sofa, sitting down with a grunt. The headache was getting the better of him, and he was getting angry again. He didn't want to shout at his sister.

He turned on the TV. He had actually missed some things from the living world like the TV, normal clothes and nature even, when he thought about it. There were no green plants in Hueco Mundo.

Karin didn't know what to make of Ichigo's answer. Why had he left them again? She didn't know what she had done wrong; it was the shinigami, was it not? Not her! She had done nothing wrong, right? She didn't understand.

Maybe Ichigo was just depressed? She knew he had taken medicine against depression before. Maybe it was because he hadn't been around to take them that made him so mean?

Still, she went and sat at end of the sofa. Slowly she made her way closer to him, but he made no response back to show any affection. The only thing that he seemed to do was to focus harder and harder on fixing his gaze on the TV, as if forcing himself not to look at her. Nevertheless she crawled closer; it felt good to sit next to his brother again even if he was doing his best to ignore her.

Ichigo was zapping the channels quickly; as nothing seemed to suit his taste. But as Karin looked up at him, wondering a bit over his actions, she didn't know what to think when she saw his face. His lipswere slightly parted and his eyes half lidded. His breathing grew heavier and his back hunched together. That couldn't be the TV's doing. She jerked away from him.

"What's wrong with you!"

He snapped out his trance, the raw instincts that turned every hollow into a monster were taking control, the sweet aroma from Karin's soul making the instincts within Ichigo rage and urged him to kill, to take her life as his own.

He grabbed her hand, unable to stop himself. She tried to pull away but to no avail. Without thinking, Ichigo dragged her hand up to his mouth, kissing it softly with cold, dry lips. Karin gasped, shocked at his actions.

"Let go!"

"No." His voice was but a dark whisper.

Both his hands clenched around hers and his tongue flickered over her fingers, trailing along her small nails. As instincts controlled Ichigo, his actions not entirely his own, Karin felt her hand being pulled into her brother's mouth, her skin scraping against his teeth. She felt him shudder and her vision started to blur while his seemed to burn.

"What are you doing!"

Suddenly someone pushed Ichigo away, Karin's hand slipping out of his mouth. The force from the blow put Ichigo off balance; he stumbled and fell with a yelp. He glared at his father with still burning eyes, who didn't look too happy with his son.

"I'm sorry!" Ichigo tried, his apologise genuine but his father didn't take any chances and pulled up his son by the shirt and towards the hall.

"Get out, Hollow!"

Ichigo was forcefully pushed out of the house. His old All Star shoes and a jacket came flying after him before the door was slammed shut.

**End of Chapter**


	3. Finding what stops hunger

**Chapter 3: Finding what stops hunger**

Out side the green house that was the Kurosaki Clinic, Ichigo stood silently in shame, listening to the ruckus inside the house, his little sister probably crying of fright.

He hadn't mean to do what he did. The curse of being a hollow had a lot of down sides. Such as filling the empty pace that had once held his heart with no through of the consequences. Ichigo could not control it.

It was one of the reasons why he didn't mind being locked up in his quarters in Las Noches. In there he could not hurt the ones he loved.

At least his father had stopped him before he had gone too far. With a sigh Ichigo was for once happy for the food they ate in Hueco Mundo. If he hadn't eaten it, he would have attacked his sister as soon as he had seen her and she would have been gone without his father having the time to react.

Shuddering at the cold Ichigo wrapped his arm around himself and strode down the empty streets. It had started to rain while he had been sleeping, big water puddles decorated the ground. The cold, wet air smelled of asphalt.

Soon he lost his breath; his body still tired and had no stamina at all after laying still for so long. Aimlessly he walked around the blocks for what felt like forever until he spotted a bench in a deserted park. He sat down on the damp wood.

'What the hell are we going to do now?' Ichigo sighed and leaned his face against his open palms. He was cold, tired and wet.

'_I don't know__,__ King…'_ his hollow sighed and slowly returned to the depth of Ichigo's soul, away from the misery.

Ichigo curled together the best he could, shielded himself with his hands to keep the cold wind out. He felt lost and very much alone. _Why had he come back again?_

For the sake of his family… yeah right… He wasn't a part of the family anymore and he knew it, but this certainly proved it. He wished he was, but it was hard when being a hollow. It pissed him off to no end; made him want to scream…

The rain grew heavier and soaked his clothes as the night went on, the sky turning darker and colder for every our that he sat there. His spiked hair was heavy with water and irritably it kept getting in his eyes. He brushed it away with stiff fingers.

When he moved on the bench to lie down he noticed that luckily enough, in his unlucky day, his wallet had been in the jacket he had been kicked out long with. He quickly pulled it out and unfolded it.

There hardly was anything in it except for bills and receipts… But he knew was he was looking for and he grew nervous; he almost dropped the wallet when he was going to unzip the change holder. They had to be there.

A sound of relief escaped his wet lips. Just where he had left them and there where plenty too… He smiled as he poured them out into his wet open palm.

_Emergency soul removal pills_. Five of them. Ichigo smiled; he couldn't help to feel like he had won some sort of victory. The pills had been given to him by Las Noches the last time he and been sent to the real world.

A pill worked similar to what a mod soul would; only it just made the soulless body run away in the direction it was facing for a short while, before it would collapse and it wasn't reusable. Sort of a way to get the human body away from danger if there was any. He had never used one, but had been told what they did the first time had been given them and sent back from the white palace Las Noches.

Ichigo put them back into his wallet. Now he didn't feel all too helpless anymore, but still very pathetic. He also felt hungry. No, not hungry, starving.

His body needed food and fast too. At first the only thing Ichigo could think of was to find a human, a dog or whatever random soul that would be easy to get to. But after a few seconds he realised it was real human food he needed. It was his body that was hungry; not his soul. But of course that sweet taste from Karin still lingered on his tongue…

Ichigo took a deep breath and stood up, his legs felt a little bit better to stand on, they weren't as wobbly as before, even if his entire body shivered instead.

To be honest he hardly remembered where he was supposed to go to get food. He set off in a random direction, hoping that he would find someplace that would help him.

Ichigo walked down empty dark streets, streetlamps illuminating his tall, thin form. He turned a corner of an old worn-down building and headed toward the end of the street. He could smell human souls in every house he passed.

Oh, how he had loved to just barge into someone's house and eat everyone inside it. But of course he couldn't do that, he couldn't start a riot or do anything that would attract any kind of activity from Soul Society. He had to lie low.

Thought he already knew he wouldn't be able to stop, or want to stop, himself form eating someone or something that had a soul if it got too close. The urge of the instincts were too strong.

He walked on, rubbing his arms together in a try to get some warmth into his body. It didn't work very well though, since the rain and wind kept making the heat he created disappear as soon as it had been made.

Eventually Ichigo spotted a food stand a few meters away after coming out on a slightly bigger street. He couldn't help but to wonder if it was even open, someone could just have forgotten to turn off the lights, the pessimist in him strong.

He hurried over to the stand, water splashing around his feet as he jogged. It sure seemed open as he came nearer and he could see someone inside. Ichigo tapped on the plastic to get the person insides attention.

"Hello young lad!" The big seller greeted Ichigo as he moved the plastic glass aside. "How may I help you in this dreadful weather?"

Ichigo hesitated at first, but then over the loud sound from the rain he said "Um… W-we would like some f-food, please." His voice stuttered as his body shook from the cold.

"We? Where's your friend, boy?" The large man said as he leaned out a bit from the stand to see if there was anyone he couldn't see from where he stood.

"J-just some food please…" Ichigo mumbled and handed the man a drenched bill with a shaking hand.

"Hm, sure thing, choose what you want to eat, the list is right there." He pointed at a board with different kind of pictures of sausages and mashed potatoes. Ichigo squinted at it. It was rather hard too see thought the thick rain and darkness. His humans eyes were not as sharp as those as his hollow soul was.

"Um…"

'Shiro… decide for me please, I don't know what I want.' Ichigo quietly asked his hollow, not wanting to stand and dilly any longer.

'_I'd rather eat that fat man's soul! But if you insist take the one with two hot dogs and mashed potatoes…'_ Shirosaki answered.

"T-two hot dogs with mashed potatoes, please." Water splashed from his mouth as he talked.

"Coming right up."

Ichigo stood shivering in the heavy rain while the man prepared his meal. He wondered silently if his toes were still attached to his feet as he couldn't even feel them when he tried to move them. Why couldn't his father have thrown out a pair of wellies instead of canvas shoes?

Dully he watched as the seller messed around with the sausages and potatoes in the stand. The steam coming from where the sausage lay looked inviting but after a while of watching the man getting everything ready he couldn't help but to get impatient. He glared at the man.

"Do you want some ketchup with this…?"

"No, and just give it to us!" Ichigo growled and snatched the food away. He felt his hands come alive again as he held the warm paper plate.

Quickly shoving the warm food down his throat, he almost chocked on it, since he forgot to chew. Souls were devoured whole and the grey-green goo in Las Noches hardly required any effort to eat.

"Are you alright, kid?"

Ichigo didn't reply, yet his eyes were fixed on the man, his eyes only leaving for a few seconds when he had to grabbed the spork to eat the mashed potatoes. It was hard not to stare, the awakened instincts inside of him urging him to kill.

Forcing his eyes away, Ichigo squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't kill now. He had to resist.

He faced away from the fast-food stand and occupied himself with fumbling for the trash bin to throw away the paper plate his food had been in. But that only lasted for a few seconds and he was left pumping his hands into fists as the only distraction.

But as he stood there, his shoulders hunching together, he suddenly spun around on the spot, his eyes wide. He rushed forward and without thinking and slammed against the glass of the stand.

The man inside yelped and swore as Ichigo pressed himself against the glass. The middle-age man that worked in there had cut this fingers on accident.

The teen bared his teeth and an inhuman sound escaped him, saliva splattering against the glass. Ichigo's mind reeled, the instincts inside him screaming at him to kill. He hadn't fed on real blood for so long.

But in his rush, he lost control of his spirit-energy. It flared around him for just a second before Ichigo realised his mistake and focused with all his might.

He forced himself away from the sent of the blood, away from the scared man and the inviting light of the building and into the darkness of the night.

What had he done? He grabbed at his head, knowing his mistake as soon he both felt three spirit energy sources suddenly appear and then disappeared as soon as they had been there.

Ichigo's breath caught in his throat.

He had to run.

Ichigo ran the best he could through the rain, water splashing around his feet. He knew the shinigami would know where to look. They always did. There was no mistake that they had noticed him and come as fast as they could. Too damn fast, he wouldn't be able to make it home in time, where perhaps his father just might help.

'_The soul-removal pills, King. Use them Ichigo.'_

There was no use running away from the shinigami in his human, it was much too slow for such a thing. He quickly pulled out his wallet, unzipped it and took a pill in his hand before putting the wallet back again. Taking a deep breath; he faced the open way of the gravel path and threw the pill down his throat.

The reaction was instantaneous and Ichigo's soul was ripped from his body with a scream. His human body started sprinting down the gravel path as fast as it could. But it had pushed Ichigo himself over when it had started running and he twitched on the muddy ground from the intense pain the pill had brought with it.

A moan was all he managed to utter before a sword came crashing down toward him.

**End of Chapter**


	4. Don’t wound what you can’t kill

**Chapter 4: Don't wound what you can't kill**

Twisting his freed soul around, Ichigo blocked the incoming blow with his cleaver, Zangetsu.

Shoving the shinigami away, the boy quickly got up from the ground and jumped back a few feet and released his weapon from the cloth that surrounded it.

There were three shinigami in front of him and Ichigo lifted his weapon, grabbing it with both hands, ready to strike. He barred his teeth and a growl rumbled in his throat.

Quickly the man in the middle attacked, his sword and Ichigo's cleaver clashing together, sending sparks flying.

Reaching out, Ichigo grabbed for the shinigami's white hair and shoved him away with all his might. Sprinting towards the second shinigami, Ichigo delivered a roundhouse kick. He missed but jumped in the nick of time to avoid a sword that came at him. Quickly Ichigo flash-stepped to the right to slam his elbow into the chest of the first shinigami. The man stumbled back and the second shinigami came kicking at Ichigo's abdomen.

Instead of getting hit, Ichigo grabbed the man's leg and slammed Zangetsu's handle into his face, breaking his nose.

The two other shinigami attacked from the front, bringing their blades down hard. Ichigo released the man he was holding and blocked both swords with his own soul-cutter. As he did, the shinigami he just released moved up behind him and swung his weapon towards Ichigo.

Acting quickly, Ichigo spun around the best he could, but failed to block the sword and it cut through his back, opening a large gash across it. Ichigo screamed, his yell un-human.

In a hurry Ichigo flash-stepped away to get a few blocks away from the attackers, onto a roof. He fell to his knees, pain searing though his back and legs and he gasped for breath.

No blood came from the deep cut, as none of it flowed through his veins, the grey food he ate in Las Noches taking its place. No blood meant no healing, but a healed body wasn't far off, the life-force of the shinigami would regenerate the wound if he consumed them.

As Ichigo sat there he felt the instincts of a hollow rise from inside him and unwillingly the mask started to from, pus like substance making its way from the tear canals onto the skin where it hardened into bone. No patterns covered it, as there was no blood to colour it with.

Shirosaki took control, brown and white eyes turning black and yellow. Ichigo did not like killing, even when he had no choice but to follow his instincts. But Shirosaki had no problem with going against the moral ethics Ichigo had learned.

With a single flash-step, the now masked boy was quickly back onto the battle scene. He approached from behind some trees where he could see the shinigami, but they couldn't see him.

Moving in behind one of the men without being noticed, Shirosaki moved his hand over the shinigami's mouth and slipped his arm over his chest and lifted the shinigami away from the scene with another flash-step. He didn't get too far, the man struggling in his grip. Fighting to keep the shinigami quiet, Shirosaki quickly raised his weapon to plunge it through flesh and bone before the man could scream.

Fresh spirit-energy poured out and onto the ground. It's smell made Shirosaki's head spin and pupils dilate. His breathing became ragged as the sent made his empty veins stretch and burn.

Quickly he bent down over body, spirit-energy that shone a brilliant gold pouring down over his hands, and onto the ground like blood. The sight of it made his entire body tremble and quickly he licked up with his open, eagerly awaiting mouth.

Dry veins burned with an indescribable pleasure and the empty space in his chest started to shrivel together; pure energy filling his being. The fresh wound on his back healed and Shirosaki knew that absolute ecstasy was drawing near as he sank his teeth into the soft flesh.

'Swallow it faster! We still have two more to kill!' Ichigo urged, unable to do more than scream from within his soul.

'_Yeah, yeah King, don't worry.'_

A war cry was heard from behind the eating boy and Shirosaki dodged an incoming sword with a quick somersault to the left. The dead shinigami's arm, that he had cut off to be able to suck spirit-energy from, was still hanging outside his mouth as Shirosaki stood. Looking around quickly for a place to go, he sprinted toward a group of people that weren't too far away.

The shinigami hesitated when the boy dove in among them and finished devouring the rest of the arm. The urge to kill the rest of the humans tore at his mind, but he did it best to resist it. There were more important matters at hand.

The two remaining shinigami didn't seem like they knew what to do. They circled nervously around the group of humans while trying to spot the boy within it. Suddenly one of them turned around and left, with no indication to the other. To Shirosaki's horror he was heading for their human body that had slumped together in the wet grass not too far away.

'_Shit!' _He cursed and quickly ran out of the crowd, shoving the humans out of the way. But as he did so, he accidentally bumped into a human on the way, pushing the woman over. It slowed him down enough for the remaining shinigami to quickly plunge his sword through Shirosaki's arm and pierce his lung.

Screaming, Shirosaki tried not to panic from the pain it caused and kicked the shinigami hard in the gut; whom fell back with a cry and grabbed his stomach.

Wasting no time, the boy sprinted toward the other shinigami that was cutting into their human body, elegant cleaver ready to strike once again. But as he heaved it down towards the enemy, he was too slow due to his fresh wound and was blocked by man's released sword.

Shirosaki let out a bone chilling scream and the shinigami froze in bewilderment at his erratic behaviour. Taking the opportunity, Shirosaki landed a punch in the enemy's face. The shinigami staggered back and fell, holding his smashed face.

As he raised Zangetsu again and slashed, the fatal blow missed when he was rammed in the side by the other shinigami, and he only cut away the arm.

Screaming again, more in anger than to cause fear, Ichigo's desperation to protect the human body seeping through so strongly that Shirosaki couldn't ignore and the masked boy shot up from the ground. Doing his best not to let his spirit-energy slip because of it, Shirosaki's hand grabbed for the last standing shinigami, black nails digging into the flesh.

Tightening his grip on his weapon, Shirosaki jerked the white haired man away, toppling him off balance with the force of it and brought his cleaver down over the back. It got stuck there, the shinigami screaming and gurgling in agony as his spine and lungs split open.

Looking up, Shirosaki frowned. The other shinigami with the cut off arm wasn't dead yet and he was apparently trying to go at their human body again. Growling, Shirosaki heaved Zangetsu out from the dead body below him and grabbed Zangetsu by the cloth; let it hang down to the ground and started moving his hand and arm in a spinning movement. Soon enough Zangetsu was whirling around at his side.

Howling to get the last shinigami to look his way, Zangetsu was released and it hurled through the air, hitting its target right through the chest. Shirosaki pulled the cleaver back by the cloth, taking the body with it.

Placing his foot on the head, Shirosaki braced against it as he pulled the cleaver free from the flesh and put it aside on the ground. He leaned down and quickly devoured the limp shinigami, tearing parts of the muscles loose to swallow. Shirosaki felt his veins burn again and the body healing once more. The hole started twist and shrink. It almost closed this time. Almost. No ecstasy this time. Shirosaki growled, his anger not wanting to settle.

Turning around, searching for the remaining shinigami body, he found to his disappointment that it had already dissolved into nothingness. He did however spot his own and ran up to it. He bent down beside it, unsure if one of the shinigami had managed to hurt it or not.

Unfortunately, when Shirosaki rolled it over so it blankly stared at the sky, he saw a massive cut across the entire left arm. There was also a smaller but just as alarmingly deep cut in the thigh, both bleeding heavily.

Making a face, Shirosaki growled under his breath, knowing that carrying the body home wasn't an option; they had to enter it and walk. There were too many humans around and a hovering body would draw attention to it from anyone close by.

Ichigo took command again and ran a hand along the wound of his human body, seeing the flesh gape open. Blood oozed out from the arm when he moved it and it was so distracting Ichigo had fight the urges to consume his own body. It looked bad, hell, he could even see the bone at some places of the arm. To his horror he could see that the flesh was turning slightly purple.

'What the hell is that!' He questioned loudly.

'_Damn, it's must be poison from that shinigami blade. It was released after all; it's the only reasonable explanation,' _Shirosaki offered.

'Shit…'

His scowl deepened and he tore away a piece of garment from the cloth he wore to bandage the arm, hoping to stop the bleeding. Standing up, Ichigo had to look away and gather his thoughts before he bit his lower lip and reunited with his body.

A scream left his lips and he coiled together in pain. It hurt a lot more than he expected. He held back a sob and took a couple of deep breaths and tried to stand. It was easier said than done while being tired, freezing, bleeding and _poisoned_.

His injured leg burned with agony, throbbing painfully and didn't do as he wanted it to do. He couldn't move his arm, it was completely paralysed and flapping uselessly at his side. Somehow he did manage to stand up on just one leg. His breath was heavy and his vision blurry. He rubbed the rainwater out of this eye with his good arm before trying to take a step.

Taking another deep breath and shutting his eyes, he shakily managed to take a small step forward. And another one. Three. Four. Five steps.

Ichigo stumbled and fell.

"Damn it! Damn, _damn_!" He wailed out loud thought gritted teeth.

The wounds stung harshly and he couldn't help to scream when he dragged his leg along the ground and grabbed at his limp, bleeding arm. He fought to keep the screams inside as he had fallen into a quiet large water puddle, dirty water soaking through his jeans and into his thigh.

He grunted and rolled out of the puddle, curling up into a foetal position. Ichigo lay in cold mud next to it in a pathetic try to get some strength back.

'_King, you have to get up. We need to take the body home.'_

'Yes I know, damn it! But it hurts!' Ichigo cried. The adrenaline that had built up in his body was completely drained. He felt pathetic, he just wanted to crawl into a corner and die permanently along with the pain.

'_Ichigo. I said you have to get up!'_ Shirosaki growled and took control over Ichigo's good arm. He jerked it up and pushed the body into a sitting position. The rest of the body hung limp. _'Will you help me!'_

'I'll just rest here for a bit first Shiro,' Ichigo mumbled and closed his eyes.

'_No you don't!'_ Shirosaki dragged Ichigo's soul down and took control of the body completely. He grunted and forcefully stood up, pain shooting through his nerves. He took a few steps forward.

'_Some cuts aren't gonna stop us King. We are strong.'_ He took another couple of steps.

Ichigo didn't answer. Shirosaki could feel him move around uncertainly inside, his mind exhausted. It hurt so much more in the human form, as if the pain couldn't be suppressed at all.

'_Look, we'll do it like this: I'll take control over the bad leg and you the rest. Just ignore the arm for now, it won't move anyway, alright?'_

'Alright…' Ichigo did as he was told.

They managed to limp quiet far until Ichigo took complete control and hobbled over to a tree to lean against it.

He gazed out at the rain, trying to get the burning pain off his mind. He wondered for how many hours it had been raining. It made him wonder how many hours he had actually been out too. To be honest he had no idea, but the sun had started rising. Maybe four hours… maybe six…

Ichigo knew that he would faint soon since his eye sight kept blurring and he could hardly focus on anything. Rubbing his eyes with his good arm, Ichigo couldn't suppress a pained moan. His arm kept on bleeding along with his leg wound.

'_We have to keep going. It's not far now. Come on.' _Ichigo felt Shirosaki move his bad leg and he gritted his teeth.

'Alright, alright, I'm going, I'm going…'

From limping to resting; back to limping and resting, they kept going until they finally saw their house come into view.

For once he was actually happy to go there. Moving closer, Ichigo knew which window that could be opened from the outside. He limped over to it and leaned against the wall. He took a few deep breaths before wiping the sweat and rain away from his forehead and gathered his remaining strength to push the window open and let himself fall over the edge into the house with a crash and a grunt.

He could hear someone run down the stairs before he lost consciousness.

**End of Chapter**


	5. Remember the time

**Chapter 5: Remember the time**

Ichigo wondered if he dared to open his eyes. Or if he even could, his eyelids feeling heavy and glued together.

He could hardly move his body and still couldn't feel his left arm or left leg. He had some vague feeling that the rest of his body parts were still there, but they felt numb, like they were light-years away from his mind. But it was a brief sensation as he was unable to hang onto consciousness and darkness overtook him.

The next time he woke up, he woke up with his eyes already open. Shirosaki was apparently already awake and had taken control and he was twitching in pain. His vision was just a blur of weakly outlined colours and his ears rang.

He could make out some dark outline of a person leaning over him and he blinked furiously in an attempt to see who it was but to no avail. The shadow said something he couldn't make out before something was placed over his nose and mouth and everything went blank.

Ichigo kept going in and out of consciousness, the poison in his body keeping him from waking up completely. During this time bad memories from the past kept passing in front of his eyes. The feverish sleep was bringing it all back, all of what both consciousnesses had tried to suppress.

It had all pretty much started with Rukia sitting across the table in Ichigo's house while giving him a stern look. But whenever she thought he wasn't looking, it would turn into worry. She had been acting nervous ever since she returned from Soul Society. Ichigo shot her a dark look.

"What?" He spat at her, he hated it when she hid things. She trailed her finger along the table before answering.

"It's getting worse isn't it?"

He crocked an eyebrow at her and leaned back in the chair, his eye's returning to the magazine he was reading. "What's getting worse?"

She hesitated and ran her hand over the table's edge this time. "You're hollow… I thought you dealt with it a few months back… but every now and then I feel your spirit energy changing still!"

Ichigo was taken aback. He and his hollow had been careful not to whisper to each other when she or anyone else that could sense spirit energy was around. They had thought Rukia was asleep when they talked at night.

"No it hasn't." Ichigo bluntly answered, eyes not leaving the comic he was trying to read, not daring to meet eyes with the woman across the table.

"Don't lie to me, Ichigo!" Rukia stood up, shoving the magazine away from him. Her eyes seemed to want to burn through his skull and let whatever demon there was on the inside escape. "If it's back then deal with it again! Kill it this time! Do whatever you did last time again!" She blurted out. "Because if you don't…I …I…" She looked desperate, then her expression quickly hardened and she left the table.

Ichigo got up, the chair falling to the floor with a loud clatter as if to show that he was getting angry. He stomped after her and grabbed her arm before she could get away.

"Don't talk to me like you know anything!" Ichigo hissed. "Don't talk about him like he's some spreading disease! And it's not an it, he's a bloody person. He's a part of me, if he goes so do I!" Ichigo's face grew darker. "And what exactly do you have to do, Rukia?"

Rukia was more than chocked at Ichigo's outburst. The grip on her arm was hard enough to make her instinctively try to jerk away from it or it would break her arm. It made her realise just how much weaker she was than him.

"I…I have to…" She couldn't say it. She knew she would be lying if she said it anyway. "Soul Society ordered all Vizard's or any abnormal mutation in a shinigami to be executed on sight since they are considered a threat in the war we are loosing! T-they claimed that the Vizard and other untrustworthy mutations would turn at any time to serve Aizen!" Rukia took a deep breath; her voice had been shaking as she had just revealed top secret information to the now new enemy.

Ichigo's eyes widened and his grip on Rukia loosened.

"Ichigo!" She cried suddenly. "You have to escape! It's not a secret anymore; everyone knows you're a Vizard! I can't kill you Ichigo! You have to run while you still have a change!" Her voice sounded like she was going to burst out crying, but her face remained firm as she met with his gaze.

"We're not an abnormal mutation!" Ichigo burst out, his voice angry but a hint of desperation was still in it.

Rukia's eyes seemed to widen more at the 'we' part than anything else and she couldn't get her self to answer. Ichigo glared at her before he turned around and left, ran up the stairs and slammed the door shut to his room.

What the hell was she talking about?Sure, he had noticed that Renji and the others had started acting strange around him since they came back from their little visit at Soul Society. Renji had seemed nervous at all times and Rukia had been giving him odd looks and been quiet.

Where they really going to take him out…? Kill him…? He doubted Rukia was lying. She would not be lying about something this serious and be half crying about it.

Ichigo walked nervously back and forth in his small room. He ran his hands through his spiky hair. He could feel Shirosaki surfacing from the depths in his soul in concern but Ichigo quickly pushed him back down.

"No! Stay down! They may notice!" Ichigo snapped out loud at his inner demon, he was sure he was bringing up hurricanes in there.

A knock on the door was suddenly heard, making Ichigo nearly jump out of his skin.

"Ichigo, are you alright? I heard you slam the door shut, you only do that when you're upset…" Karin asked through the door before she peeked her head inside. "Who were you talking to? Are you hiding someone in here?" She asked when she only saw Ichigo inside the room.

"I was talking to Shir- Err, no one!"

She lifted an eyebrow at him. He looked nervous, like he had been caught doing something embarrassing. She frowned as she got a bit worried, but decided it was best to leave it be.

"Um, anyways… Yuzu wanted me to go buy her some food for today's dinner. Wanna come along?"

Ichigo didn't know what to do. Maybe getting out of the house would help him calm down. His brown eyes darted quickly back and forth in their sockets. "Um…err… alright… I'll come."

He grabbed the closest sweater he could reach; a black one and put it on before following Karin down the stairs. Rukia was still in the living room; but Ichigo didn't dare too look at her. He quickly put on a pair of shoes and headed out of the house. Karin followed closely.

They walked quietly through the park once they were done shopping, the bags with milk and other groceries Yuzu had wanted them to buy bumping against their legs. Ichigo couldn't help but to be jumpy, looking around himself every now and then in case a shinigami would jump out from behind a bush. He had never thought he would come to fear them. It surprised him out simply friends could turn into enemies.

Karin had asked him a few times what was wrong but he would just brush it away with some lame answer. It wasn't like he was going to say that he had an army of dead ninjas coming after him. He tried not to break a sweat.

When they came back he quickly headed up to his room after dumping the bags on Karin to put it in the fridge. Unfortunately Rukia was sitting nervously on his bed. She quickly stood when he entered. Ichigo closed the door behind him and leaned against it.

"If it's really true, where should we go?" Ichigo mumbled while looking at the roof, avoiding her eyes. For some reason they made him even more nervous now.

"We? I can't follow you!"

"No, I meant me and Shiro."

"Shiro?"

"Um… My hollow, I named him Shirosaki. He looks just like me, except completely white…" Unwilling Ichigo scratched his hair. It sounded sick saying it and he had never intended to tell anyone ever. It was just _wrong _having another consciousness in his mind. _Dissociative identity disorder_ _here I come_, he thought solemnly.

Rukia looked at the floor, unsure of how to react. Never had she even thought that the hollow was like a person; she thought it just an entity or a foul beast like the rest of the hollows. Let alone did she expect Ichigo to even name and treat it like an equal. She felt ashamed. Now she wanted even less to follow the cruel order she had been given. She would not do it. But that only meant the others would know she had warned Ichigo…

"How can we even run away…? I mean you got this tracking device for hollows, I guess you can track shinigami and whatever you want with it, can you not? You'll find us wherever we are," Ichigo asked, hardly any emotion behind his voice, doing his best to see a way out of the trouble he now was in.

Rukia sighed; she knew very well that this was true. "You will have to be on the move. Stay at different places… then you will harder to locate."

"How will that help, if your computers can find us wherever I am!" Ichigo spat, a hint of growl in his voice showing that he didn't like the answer he had been given.

Rukia didn't answer as her mind worked fast, trying to think of a solution. She had been wasting enough time already by avoiding the truth for several days now. "Ichigo, we track people with the use of spirit energy! If you'll learn how to cloak your energy, they won't be able to find you! At least not as easily!" Rukia's hope rose and she smiled weakly at him, but her doubt till shone through.

"If you haven't noticed I can't do that! I don't know how to do it!"

"You don't know how to do it because you never tried!" Rukia suddenly burst out, her voice getting irritated.

Ichigo looked at her in surprise before they narrowed in suspicion. She knew how to teach him and only now she comes with the information? Couldn't she have taught him ages ago…?

"What you do is that you gather up your spirit energy within yourself; focus it into your soul."

"I have too much for that!"

"If it was too much for you to handle you would have died when you were born!" Rukia shouted, glaring at him. "Ichigo! I wouldn't choose to help you if I knew you were done for!"

Ichigo fidgeted, he didn't know what to say, but he was willing to listen. "Well, how do I do it then…?" Ichigo asked and slid to the floor into a sitting position. He felt rather hopeless about it.

Rukia sighed in relief that Ichigo decided not keep on being stubborn. She sat down the bed again.

"Well, what you do is, like I said-" Rukia suddenly stopped talking, quickly stood up and slammed her soul out of her fake body. She half way drew her sword at Ichigo. Ichigo himself instantly pushed his body against the wall, looking around himself in fear with wide eyes, thinking that something he couldn't see or notice was going to attack.

"Shit! What? What!"

"Your spirit energy changed! It started to feel like a hollows!" Rukia's eyes narrowed, while Ichigo's darkened.

"Of course it did! Shirosaki has to listen too, idiot! And you said you weren't going to kill us?" Ichigo screamed while looking like he was going to fight Rukia with his bare hands. Her eyes widened when she realised her mistake and sheeted her sword.

"S-sorry!" She stammered and returned to her fake body as fast as she could when Ichigo's spirit energy felt like a shinigami only. She slowly sat down next to Ichigo in small hallway. He didn't look like he trusted her anymore thought, as he moved a bit further away from her in the narrow space. He felt cramped, as if he was suffocating, all trust for the petite woman gone. It was if he was sitting millimetres away from his own death.

"I'm sorry Ichigo, I didn't mean anything bad! It was only a reflex…" She said while looking at the floor. "Sorry…"

A long moment of silence followed. Ichigo didn't know what to do; he debated on just running away now and ignore whatever help Rukia claimed she had to offer. Maybe she was just playing tricks with him? Making him stay put until an executioner would arrive? He couldn't have a hundred men descending on the house with his family in it. He had to protect them. He had to get away, didn't he? Flee like an animal?

Rukia did look like she was about to betray him though. But he couldn't be sure. Ichigo ran a hand uncertainly through his hair again. He slowly moved closer to the open part of his room; so he would have a chance of running and grab his shinigami badge this time if she would attack again.

"Um…" Rukia squeaked in a low voice. "Your… your hollow may listen too…"

Ichigo shrugged and let Shirosaki slowly surface again. He saw Rukia stare even harder at the floor again as he did. Shirosaki was even more suspicious at the woman, but he stayed put to listen to what she had to say.

"Well… like I said, you gather up all your energy into your own soul. Deep inside of it…" Her eyes didn't leave the floor as she spoke. "I guess at the same place where you keep your hollows spirit energy."

"How do we gather it up then…?" Ichigo quickly asked, wanting the information out of her as fast as possible, not liking where he sat, cornered to the walls.

"First you need to visualise all your energy, become aware of it. Kind of like knowing where it is and how it moves around your body. Once you know this, you… well, suck it into your own body. It's like taking a deep breath and not breathing out… except you can still breathe of course."

"It's that easy?" Ichigo asked, sounding surprised, his tense senses relaxing slightly.

"Well, it sounds easier than it is, it's harder to grasps the spirit energy the more you have of it. You got quiet a lot, so I guess you will need much practice."

Ichigo frowned harder again; did he have time to practice? He did know how to boost his energy for Bankai… maybe it was similar, but the other way around? Just focusing and feeling all his energy seemed hard.

'_If you are going to do that, you can't do it at home, since then you'll most probably crush yah' sisters with the share amount of energy. Let's practice in a park or something...'_ Shirosaki echoed through Ichigo's skull. Said boy got up from the floor.

"Let us try it outside Rukia." He said without looking at her. Without hesitating, Rukia got up herself and Ichigo got his soul forcefully pushed out of his body like many times before by Rukia's special glove. His black clothes moved gracefully around his soul body in the wind as they headed out of his room and house. None of them said anything as they quickly went to the almost completely empty park.

"Alright… okay, so all I really do is use my imagination?" Ichigo asked, keeping a distance from the girl on purpose, not wanting to bee too close Rukia, if she decided to attack again. In the back of his mind he marvelled over how quickly he too could turn on her.

"That's right. Since it is that simple in general everyone laughs at your inability to at least hide _some_ of it." Rukia taunted, in a try to loose the stiff air between them.

Ichigo fought the urge to scream _bitch_ at her. He succeeded by biting himself in the tongue.

"At least I'm still stronger than you anyhow!" Ichigo shot back unthinkingly and crossed his arms. He smirked when he saw anger and irritation move across Rukia's face, but she said nothing. After a moment of silent glaring at each other Rukia spoke up.

"Well, we don't have all day! Get on with it!" She ordered him before she turned around to watch from the nearest bench. She tried not to let her worry show, now Ichigo's presence would be even more apparent to Soul Society, and everyone would know she had failed her assignment to execute.

Ichigo frowned harder than usually but relaxed, closed his eyes and let his energy flow. He focused on it and tried to feel it. Slowly, but steady, he started to get a graphs on how much he had. He opened his eyes and to his shock, he saw his own spirit energy. It had a light blue tint to it. Before it had been transparent like all other energies in the world. He had only been able to see it in its black form when he summoned his Bankai or when he shot Getsugas, then it was concentrated enough to be seen even for his untrained eyes.

Focusing the best he could, he tried to imagine himself brining it all inside his soul. He felt himself starting to shake and somehow his hearing and senses seemed to become sharper, the very air around him seemed to move, made his hair on his arm stand and his skin contract.

Suddenly the gleeful voice of Shirosaki rang thought his mind._ 'Hey King you're doing it! Hell, I didn't think you would be able to do it at all!'_

Like a tidal wave Ichigo's energy crashed out of him.

"Ichigo!" Rukia shouted. She was getting pushed to her knees by the share amount of energy. "Inside Ichigo! You're supposed to keep it inside yourself!"

"Shit!" Ichigo cursed under his breath. 'Don't disturb me like that, dumb fuck!'

'_Haha! You need to be able to keep it inside at all times King! Even if you're about to shit you pants in surprise!'_

'S-Shut up!' Ichigo stuttered in embarrassment, it had scared him, his senses more jumpy than ever.

'_Try again.'_

Ichigo frowned but obeyed. He closed his eyes once more and relaxed his muscles. He tried to calm down his heartbeat and breath slower. Ichigo visualised his energy again and felt how it poured out of his body with no control whatsoever. He pulled at it with his imagination and felt exactly where it was. He tried to freeze it with his mind. He opened his eye a little, leering out from beneath his eyelashes. He smirked, it had worked, he could feel where his energy was and he had a firm grip on it with his mind. He just needed a little imagination.

He saw Rukia stand up again and look at him with a small smile, as a silent compliment that he was doing a good job. He closed eyes again. Now he had to get it into his soul as well. He imagined that it moved into his own blue, side-turned world, where his inner demon lived. He felt his skin contract and his senses seemed to become sharper again.

'_That's because before with most of your energy was outside, it kind of __acted __ike a veil over your senses.'_ Shirosaki explained before Ichigo had a chance to ask.

"Ichigo." Rukia shock his arm to get his attention back to the real world.

"Yeh…?" He asked, slowly opening his eyes, his mind slightly dizzy at the new sensation.

"You're a very, very fast learner. Just as rumour has it. Let's hope it's not just beginners luck, ok?" Rukia said, her voice sounding worried.

Ichigo swallowed. He was pretty sure it was.

**End of Chapter**


	6. Attacked

**Chapter 6: Attacked**

They came. Just like Rukia said they would. Two days after she had warned Ichigo about them coming. But Ichigo had refused to leave; he couldn't just leave! Not just like that, he was alive; what would everyone think if he suddenly just disappeared or left a soulless body behind?

It all made him angry enough that his father forced him to take anti-depressants so he wouldn't hurt someone in a fit of rage. His family asked why he was so very angry, but he never really answered their questions. He didn't know how answer anyway, nor did he dare to talk to his father more than what was necessary. He had become so paranoid that he could barely sleep. Once he even thought Rukia was going to stab him again.

He hadn't gone to school either. He had been busy trying to get better at hiding his spirit-energy. He wasn't improving fast. Rukia's constant pushing and shouts weren't making things better either. On the contrary, it was only slowing him down. He had to keep himself from attacking her as a last ditch attempt to silence her ranting.

But regardless, they came in a group of five shinigami. One of them, to Ichigo's horror, was Renji.

Renji had let Ichigo get out of his human body before he had drawn his sword. But other than that, seemed not to waver on the order to execute his friend. The other shinigami drew their swords as well.

"Ichigo! I have been ordered to carry out the order Rukia has failed to do. I've come to eliminate you as an enemy target. I'm sorry, but I have no choice but to kill you, or I will be executed as well. At least I can I hope I can do it as a worthy opponent, to honour your death." The words came from Renji as if he had rehearsed them several times, which he probably had. Such hard words did not come easy.

Ichigo frowned and drew Zangetsu.

"I won't let you kill me, Renji. With or without honour!" Ichigo shouted, trying to sound like his usual brave self. But being attacked by people he had once referred to as his own kind was not something he took lightly.

One of the shinigami charged at him, with the others close behind him. Renji hesitated but called out his sword, Zabimaru.

Ichigo swung his own cleaver madly, blocked and attacked. He had never really cut to kill, but things where starting to change. These people were here for the sole purpose of killing him. If they didn't go down, he would.

Zabimaru suddenly came flying from the left. Ichigo cursed but managed to block the sword in the nick of time. He turned to look at Renji. It was easy to see that Renji didn't put much spirit into his fighting; he looked sad and angry at his own actions.

But Ichigo wouldn't be fooled, like Renji had said himself he was here to kill him since Rukia was unable to do so. Ichigo's face darkened and he shot a Getsuga at Renji. Renji managed to dodge it, but he was caught in the shockwave of it and pushed away.

"I haven't done anything against you!" Ichigo shouted, trying to make them see reason he knew they would never see, since they had already gone this far.

"I know that! But, I am a Vice Captain! I have to follow orders! In times of war I can't betray the side I'm on! I will be seen as a traitor and be executed as well! You being a Vizard is enough to put you on the list of war casualties. The counsel has decided and what they decide is law."

"Tch!" Was all Ichigo uttered and charged his sword with more spirit energy. He lunged forward with a battle cry. So be it, if the man was against him, he had no choice but to attack. Do or die.

To Ichigo's surprise, Renji backed off and started to fiddle with his mobile phone after he had done some strange movement with his hand. Ichigo's shock earned him a kick in the back. It had enough force behind it to bring him stumbling to the ground. He guessed the movement with the hand was a signal to the other shinigami telling them to attack.

A shinigami he had never seen before stomped their foot down on to his back, to keep him down. Ichigo screamed and tried to get up, but a sword impaled one of his hands and pinned it to the ground. Ichigo shrieked in pain and tied to pull away, but his hand was firmly stuck to the ground.

As he struggled, his other hand grabbing at his arm, a second sword came at him. He had managed to avoid just enough of the sword to keep his head attached to his shoulders. However the blade had still moved close enough to open a large cut on the side of his throat, blood pouring out on the ground and up into his mouth, over lips.

Ichigo's mind panicked and he ripped his stuck hand open from the sword to get away. They were going to _kill him_. It hadn't really hit him before, but now he was starting to panic.

He staggered back, while holding his injured hand and tried his best to breath through the blood that kept rushing up and out of his throat. He started chocking, coughing and suddenly a thick lump of blood congealed splattered on the ground. Ichigo stared at it in horror.

As he did, he felt several more shinigami spirit energies approaching. Renji had sent after reinforcement with the mobile phone. That had to be what he had done at least. Ichigo knew he was now clearly our numbered.

Yet again had let his guard down and a knee suddenly impacted with his lower jaw, sending him flying backwards. Still in mid-air, another foot connected with his head. The boy screamed as he scarped up his skin against hard asphalt and his head was knocked against it. His vision went black for a second and his ears rang. He thought his head was going to pop.

He gasped but pushed himself up from the ground as the world swayed around him. His whole jaw screamed in agony, his lips were swollen and blood flowed from his mouth in a never ending river. One of his eyes quickly swelled and made him unable to open it.

Ichigo saw a sword come at him again and he barely blocked it with Zangetsu. He shook his head to get rid of the dizziness and nauseated feeling and did his best to twirl around on the spot and slashed Zangetsu in a downward arc with one hand. A shinigami's leg fell off.

Horrified of what he had just done, he stared at the flailing and screaming shinigami. Spirit-energy oozed out from the where the leg once was, but Ichigo couldn't stay starring for too long thought, since he had to dodge Zabimaru. He failed, and earned a deep cut over his wrist.

His eyes widened as he dropped Zangetsu due to the new intense pain in his arm. He didn't have time to retrieve it since two other shinigami came screaming and swinging their sword madly from two directions at once.

Ichigo flash-stepped back and forth to get out of their reach, trying to get Zangetsu back at the same time, before he got himself cut even more. He failed doing so as the shinigami with the cut off leg, kicked him in the gut with a heavy heave of his arms to get his leg up as Ichigo flew over him. Ichigo fell onto the hard ground again. He cursed when he felt his foot almost breaking from the odd angel he landed with.

"Ichigo!" Rukia suddenly screamed; tears running down her face. "Run away!"

Her presence made the others hesitate and Ichigo took the chance to do as Rukia had told him to do. He did a fast but clumsy flash-step to retrieve his sword.

Then he ran away. Fled the scene like an injured wolf.

"Don't let him escape!" Was the last order he heard from Renji before he was out of hearing distance.

Ichigo kept short-range jumping between the buildings in a try to make himself hard to locate, even on his sprained foot. He even tried to desperately hide his spirit energy, but failed miserably. Too many things distracted him from focusing. Mostly pain and emotions. He was starting to become afraid. The thought that they were trying to kill him for real was ringing in his hears as he pressed his free hand against his still bleeding neck.

'_Ichigo.'_

The named boy fell once again in surprise at the voice in his head. He coughed up blood on the pavement. Ichigo could see a pale version of himself reflect in the liquid's red surface.

'Ichigo.' His hollow said again, his voice, unlike Ichigo's, steady and firm. 'I felt fairytale-girl a few blocks away. Go tell her what's goin' on, and then focus on hiding your energy so we can get out of the city unnoticed.'

'Why!' Ichigo screamed his question, his mind was reeling, he couldn't think.

'Tell her that we are under attack by shinigami, then cloak your energy and get out of the city! You're going to tell her this so someone, other than the shinigami, knows!'

Ichigo got up and started running again in the directions Shirosaki told him to and a few seconds later he literally ran into Inoue. He grabbed her shoulder to keep her from falling with his uninjured hand, which had been stomping the blood from pouring out of his neck. He shook her desperately.

"Inoue!" Blood splattered in her face as Ichigo shouted her name.

"K-kurosaki-kun!" Was her not too unexpected response and a very shocked face. "What happened to you!"

Ichigo tried his best to focus. He he was starting to loose too much blood to stay sharp for much longer.

"Shinigamis! Renji! They have all been ordered to kill us! They are all after us!"

"Why do they want to kill us!" Inoue looked around herself in bewilderment.

"M-me! Not you! They want to ki-" Ichigo's screaming got cut short as he started to violently cough up more blood. He quickly covered his mouth as he noticed more blood was flying into the young girls face.

"They hurt you this badly! We have to get you healed!" Inoue cried, already starting to focus on getting her healing ability ready.

"There's no time!" Ichigo's voice grew more stressed as he felt the pursuing shinigami approach. He saw on Inoue's expression that she had felt them as well.

"Don't worry Inoue! I won't die!" Ichigo tried to smile at her, but he figured his blood filled mouth wouldn't bring much hope to her so he quickly stopped.

'_You may very well die, King, if you don't start hiding that spirit energy of yours very soon and get out of here!'_ Shirosaki suddenly cut in.

"I need to go now." Ichigo squeezed her shoulder before he quickly turned around and ran. He could feel Inoue's worried look follow him before he disappeared behind a store. There he stopped to rip off two large pieces of fabric from his hakama, the upper clothing of his black uniform.

He warped one piece of cloth over his mutilated hand, one over his scraped up arm and one around his neck as hard as he could. It made breathing even harder, but it had to do since he didn't want to bleed to death. He didn't bother to cover his eye with anything.

'_Worry about the wounds later. Conceal your energy already!'_

Ichigo tried to focus. He tried to feel his energy and bring it inside. As he did he noticed his body started running without him telling it to.

'Shiro! What are you doing!'

'_Saving our ass while you hide your energy.'_ Ichigo frowned as he saw his vision on his good eye started to turn black and felt it move on its own. The hollow mask started seeping out and cover half of his face.

'_Don't look at what I'm doin'!'_

Ichigo tried to make focusing easier by closing the bad eye he still had control over. That earned him a snide remark and he felt himself being pushed down completely into the core of his soul.

'_You may as well do it down there instead of getting in the way up here.'_ Shirosaki's voice echoed from above.

"Tsk…" Ichigo frowned irritatingly and sat down. It wasn't the time to argue.

However, as he tried to relax, he noticed that none of his wounds appeared in here. But the wind was blowing heavily between the blue, sideways buildings. The clouds told of a coming storm from the dark grey colour and rain that was falling softly.

"Kay…" Ichigo mumbled uncertainty, the want to cry burning in his chest at what had just happened. But he knew he had to get the spirit energy out of the way, before he had any break down, even as the rain increased as he thought it.

He closed his eyes, doing his best to visualise his energy once again. He peered through his eyes, wondering what his energy would look like here. To the boys disappointment all that happened was that some parts of the air started to ripple as if warm. He focused harder and imagined that all his energy was there with him among the buildings, in every single room. Suddenly the whole place looked like it was burning with invisible fire. The air rippled and moved and the buildings seemed to glow.

Instantly the heavy, dark rain clouds disappeared and the storm become a breeze. Ichigo knew he had managed to succeed in hiding his energy.

But even so he bit his lip uncertainly, he still had no idea how Shirosaki was doing in the real world. Time passed differently here so he could have been in there for seconds or even days. The thought that he had been there for days made him worry. The remaining clouds above started to spin, slowly forming a small tornado to match Ichigo's worried face.

He bit his lip before he started running toward the edge of the building he was on. He jumped of it, arms out stretched and feet in front of him. He sailed thought the windy air and landed with a soft thud on the tallest skyscraper there was. The one in the middle of his vast world, which seemed to be the one he mostly landed on whenever he came to the place. He didn't know why he hadn't done it now. It made the clouds around him spin faster.

He ran along it, past windows were recent memories moved inside. Once at the top, he tried to peek inside the first and highest window, the one that showed the most recent memories of them all; only a friction of a second away from what was reality.

To Ichigo's frustration red moving curtains where pulled over. That meant that Shirosaki hid it from him. Stupid hollow, he always did that. Never let Ichigo know what he did in the real world until he was done. Bastard.

Ichigo crossed his arms and gazed out over the tornados moving in the distance. He didn't like being left in here without knowing what was going on. He walked back and forth along the building, glancing every now and then at the window, in hope that the red curtains would move away. He though about moving to the surface and force the hollow away, to demand control again. But before he could do anything, Shirosaki suddenly appeared in front of him.

"Hold your horses, King." He said with a suppressed giggle. Ichigo strangled a shriek that almost escaped him when the hollow had landed only millimetres away.

"The Horse saved the King from danger once again." The hollow said with a small bow. Ichigo crossed his arms and lifted and an eyebrow at the comment, but decided to ignore it.

"Where did you take us?"

"Straight down to business, eh?" Shirosaki said and crossed his arms in he same way as Ichigo. "I took us to Osaka. Not too far away but it will do for now. I figured you didn't want me to go to another continent."

"Where in Osaka?" Ichigo was shocked the hollow had moved away so far, expecting the hollow not to do too much when he was out. But then again the hollow could have done whatever he wanted; Ichigo had been stupid enough to let the hollow out without him supervising.

"To some dark, scary looking alley way where no one is going to look for a limp soul lying on the ground with a cleaver and a hollow mask."

"What about the shinigami?" Ichigo asked, ignoring Shirosaki's attempt at being funny.

"They were too weak to even be considered fighting with, so I simply out ran them."

"I'll go back in command and look at the place." With that and a nod to his hollow, Ichigo resurfaced to the real world.

Ichigo noticed that his poor excuse of bandages hand been replaced by real once, and his hand had been splinted. To his dismay when he peeked through the bandages, he saw that his fingers where turning blue and the wound hadn't healed much, they were stiff and all feeling in them had disappeared. Ichigo guessed his hollow hadn't bothered with healing it at all.

But as the boy trailed his hand over his throat, he notice that his throat was almost completely healed. Having a hollow alter ego wasn't that bad after all. But nevertheless, Ichigo sprinted off into the night of the city.

The hunt had begun and he was starting to wonder if he really could fight back or not.

**End of Chapter**


	7. Crawl

**Chapter 7: Crawl**

Thin pupils within brown irises gazed out over a brightening city. The sun slowly made it's way up over the rim of enormous houses and met with a frowning face. The boy looked away and jumped off the edge of the house he was currently standing onto the flat roof. He didn't like the idea that it was getting brighter, black clothes, torn or not, stood out more easily in daylight.

Not much had happened during the night that had seemed to be the longest Ichigo had ever experienced. He had mostly been concentrated on finding a place without any humans were he could sit undisturbed and focus on the only thing important; hiding his massive energy.

As he felt that he was no longer safe on the roof of the abandoned warehouse; he made his way down on to the ground. There he walked aimlessly through the weeds and past scattering rats. He couldn't help but to feel some sort of resemblance between them and him, for he was after all, also running away from things that approached. Only difference was that he had no idea in what direction to run in.

It felt strange to be so far away from where he lived and not have seen the travel there, to him, since his hollow had been in command, he had just popped up there after talking with Orihime. He kicked at an empty cola-can in frustration and watched it soar through the air and land next to a brim-full trash can.

To Ichigo's own disgust his stomach lurched at the sight of it. He was hungry. His mind swam with images of Yuzu's cooking and before he knew it, he was digging his way into the trashcan in search for food. To his disappointment he found nothing eatable. The only thing he found except paper and other things alike was a rotten apple. He thought about eating it, but he resisted the urge, knowing full well that he would only get sick. He needed to find something else.

He turned around, glaring eyes searching for something to subdue his hunger with. Of course he found nothing. He clenched his uninjured hand into a fist. Anger and a small feeling of desperation flared within. Ichigo had never been in such a situation before; thus he wasn't sure on what to do, and it made him angry. He almost forgot to rein in his spirit energy.

Knowing he had no other choice but to get deeper into the city if he was going to find food, he started walking. The orange haired boy drew his cleaver, not taking any chances on being too late to strike if someone came.

He walked for a long time and only found one deserted place one after another. No signs of human life. Yet again the closest resemblance to a restaurant he found was another trashcan. He frowned, but stuck his hand down and threw out the things that weren't edible. His mind sparkled with joy when he found a not too old half eaten hamburger. He imagined himself eating something real tasty as he didn't want to really feel the half rotten meat in his mouth.

However Ichigo abruptly stopped eating as he felt something behind him; he quickly turned around with the hamburger stuffed in his mouth and weapon ready to strike. He met with two perplexed and frightened eyes. Ichigo backed off before he realised it was a human staring at him, or rather staring at his hamburger. Ichigo took it out of his mouth with his injured hand; nearly dropping it. The human gasped and followed the food with his eyes.

Ichigo quickly dropped it, realizing that the human couldn't see him. Just like they were supposed too, he wasn't in his hometown anymore after all where everyone seemed to be able to see the dead. The human's eyes followed the lump of food and stepped away, obviously sacred of the flying food.

Looking around himself carefully, Ichigo didn't know if he was attracting attention with the human so close. He slowly walked away, his heart pounding in his chest and his body jerked, muscles tightening and his mind set on highest alert, keeping an eye out in every direction. Once far away enough for his liking, he turned and ran. Ran out of the city again, scared that the human had drawn shinigami to him. He didn't know how the human could have done it, but he wasn't going to take any chances.

What if they had planted a sensor… or something inside the humans to detect him…? Ichigo frown deepened and his body slipped inside what appeared to be an empty parking garage. He knew he probably was just being paranoid again, but the thought wouldn't slip and a small bit of fear started to twist inside of him. Soul Society could do many things, even make souls on their own, so why not a detector…? The more he thought about it, the more nervous and jumpy he became.

Ichigo left the building, moving in the shadows. He knew it was pointless to actually hide among bushes if they had gotten his location now, but it at least made the heavy knot in his stomach fade a little.

But they never came. Not even after hiding under a blown off steel roof for what felt like and probably was a day, did Ichigo dare to move. His fear was getting the better of him, it wasn't the fights themselves that scared him, but it was the thought that he may have to spend the rest of his 'dead life' like he was now and he wouldn't be able to cope with that.

What if he got seriously injured…? His hand had almost healed now, but it had taken days and left a nasty scar behind and was still painful to move at times. He couldn't have his body broken at all times. Because he knew that every fight would result in an injury, more severe than his hand.

Eventually they came; the shinigami always outnumbering him, at least two on one or more each time. Their attacks became more close to each other, at least once a day now, before he had had at least two days of rest. For weeks he fled, running further and further away from things he knew and had kept dare. He went to places her had never been too and hardly knew the names of the towns and cites he travelled through.

He was loosing the chase fast as his soul body couldn't keep up with the injuries anymore.

Using his bankai in the fights was something he didn't dare to do, simply because the massive spirit energy increase would make everyone notice him. Nor did he dare to call out his mask. His inner demon kept quiet just to be on the safe side as well, whatever safe was.

Ichigo had started sleeping on the most unsuspected places he could think of for, run down places, abandoned places. Food was getting hard to find again due to the fact that he simply didn't have time; he had to be on the move as often as he could, as moving around seemed to actually make him harder to find. He kept going for weeks, maybe even months. But it was hard to know, he had nothing to keep track with.

It wasn't only his body that was drained, mind was getting exhausted too. He had to fight hard not to loose the little control he had his energy and every time he accidently let it slip, he knew he only had a few minutes to run for it. A fight would commence and Ichigo would always find himself fleeing the scene, bleeding some way or another.

He started to loathe anything that had something to do with a shinigami. His clothes, his sword and sometimes, when things were extra hard; himself. For the fact that he was what hunted him; his own kind tried to kill him. 

It made hope fade, when he thought about just how many men Soul Society could send. But he knew that if Soul Society was completely desperate to kill him off; if they would send captains on him. Maybe that was supposed to be a comfort; but Ichigo could not see it.

At those times, Shirosaki would talk to him again, resurfacing from the dark rooms he hid in and reminded Ichigo that since he was his hollow, Ichigo was not like the others. Not that really encouraged Ichigo, but even so he would force Ichigo out from whatever hole he had hid in; take him somewhere else where he could think of something different. New, other places, but away from anyone, where there was no one. Always was he alone and it was starting to get bitter cold wherever they went, winter was drawing near or it was already upon them, they couldn't really tell.

Ichigo had killed twice, but noticed that killing would only result in more shinigami appearing next time, and more often. His last killing had most probably triggered the big increase of times he was attacked.

But for once, under a cloudy and lightning stuck sky, Ichigo found himself resting on a bench on a freezing cold afternoon. His body lay limply against the grey frost covered wood and warmly welcomed the rest, most of his open wounds taking the opportunity to try and close.

His stomach growled for food. But Ichigo wasn't hungry anymore, he was starving. His body had become scrawny; his eyes ran deep in their sockets and his hips and ribs poked out from beneath his skin all too visibly. He was starting to get trouble keeping his clothes on, not matter how hard he tied his white obi around his thin hips. They were torn at several places too, as many swords had managed to cut thought them. Ichigo sighed, curling together on the bench, trying to stay warm.

'_Hey.'_ A low whisper echoed from within._ ' I can eat a soul for you.'_

Ichigo stiffened, his breath caught in his throat at the offer.

'_Hey, I was only joking, King!' _The hollow blurred out quickly, but in a sly voice he offered_; 'Unless you want me to be serious…?'_

'No, I don't want you to be serious, fuckwit. I'm not that damn desperate yet.' His hot temper was never ending these days, and the two could hardly have any kind of conversation without starting to argue.

'_Well I can wait…'_ His hollow sneered. _'Wimp.'_

'I am not a wimp!' Ichigo snapped back, as he turned over to lie on his side without much success, as a cracked rib stung harshly.

'_Yes, you are! You can't even feel the presence of a random shinigami without wetting yourself, moron!'_

'I do not wet myself, asshole!'

'_Tch. I bet you where about to! And if you're so smart, why don't you go eat some goddamn food!'_

Ichigo frowned at the all too mocking tone of his hollow, but then stiffened again as suddenly out of nowhere; he felt five different shinigami appear. He had felt it for less than a second, but he knew it hadn't been his imagination. His heart jumped up into his throat.

'_Ichigo, don't die, ok…?'_ Was the last thing Ichigo heard from his hollow, before he drew his black cleaver and ran away at full speed. Quickly he tried come up with some sort of a plan; that he wanted to fight in a narrow place, since then the shinigami would have a harder time attacking him at once.

Pumping his legs hard, the city he didn't even know the name of quickly approaching. He didn't think they where following him, because he didn't feel them anymore. Perhaps they had come for another reason than him? But his small joyful though was crushed when out of nowhere, a small knife like sword connected with his thigh. Ichigo instantly fell, his face scraping against concrete.

Far away he thought he heard a scream, one of victory as if the owner of the sword had just hit his target, bull's-eye. Ichigo's eyes widened, were they hunting him like some animal now…? Not even facing him before battle?

In a determent movement, he sat down, grabbing the hilt of the knife and he pulled the hardest he could. The sword wouldn't budge, even when he pulled with both hands. It was stuck like iron. He pulled again and again but as he lay there fighting with the small but stubborn weapon, he heard Shirosaki mumble like a second thought that it was better if he ran with it than lay waiting for the owner of the sword to arrive. Ichigo did as he was told and stood. He started running again, whimpers of pain escaping him as the severe limping slowed him down greatly.

Ichigo could hear laughter from above, belonging to several men. He looked up and his eye met with four strong looking shinigami, all laughing at his desperate attempt at running with a knife impaled into his leg. They followed him from the roof, easily seeing his attempts on escape from there. He was getting tried, his breath grew heavier by the minute and sweat made his hair stick to his forehead. He started to wonder if his pursuers were just going to keep running after him until he would fall. But Ichigo still clung to his idea on a tight area and when he saw a small alleyway with a dead end, he turned, ran into it and stopped dead in his tracks.

Ichigo's chest heaved heavily, his heart pumping hard in his throat. He grabbed Zangetsu in a firm grip, ready to fight and defend himself until the bitter end.

Swords and cleaver met, sparks and harsh words flying through the air. Ichigo swung his weapon, brining a shinigami with him and slammed the young looking man into the wall. All of them had jumped down from the roof and attacked at once. A foot collided with Ichigo's side, making him stumble.

Ichigo started to doubt his own plan on outmatching the numbers in a tighter area as the swords attacked together, faster now when they weren't pushed very far away when Ichigo managed to land a kick or fist. He was getting unwillingly pushed further into a corner. Quickly he noticed that he was clearly on the loosing side when the four attackers started to kick him down into a lying position. Ichigo blocked with his huge cleaver, but he couldn't block the swords coming down on his upper body and legs at the same time.

Suddenly Ichigo felt a painful tug in his leg; the small dagger impaled there was pulled out by the owner. Blood gushed from the large gash that was left behind. The boy screamed the as the pain was made fresh and another sword plunged through his arm, as he had been rather still while screaming in agony. Ichigo let go of Zangetsu with one hand, his arm burning with too much pain to be able to hold anything.

To Ichigo's horror, his cleaver was taken away from his one hand still holding it and thrown to the side. Ichigo quickly got up from the ground, ignoring his arm, desperately trying to get his cleaver back. But a fist slammed into his face, breaking his nose, sending him stumbling backward as blood sprayed over his face. Large hands came down at him and started tearing his clothes away.

"This does not belong to you, freak!" One of them shouted, spite dropping form his mouth as he pulled at Ichigo's already tattered clothes. "You're not shinigami!"

Others where calming he had stolen them, his unclean body was not to wear them. They clawed at his chest, tore the garment off his arms.

Swords plunged into his soft body, tearing his skin and organs open. One of the men pushed the others aside forcefully and bought it down hard through Ichigo's side himself. Ichigo screamed and tried get away, to reach for his own weapon. His bony fingers reached out, trying his best to move through the pain and get to the only thing that could save him. The other didn't seem to noticed thought; they had, as it seemed, started to argue.

"I'm going to kill him!" One barked out, stepping forward from the group, but as he did he was recived a punch in the face from one of his companions.

"He's mine!" He shouted himself, his own sword rising and aiming, looking down at Ichigo's bloody form like he was nothing more than a prey price to claim. "Do you know how much his head is worth!"

"I do at least, so let me kill him!" The third one called and pushed the first one out the way completely.

Worth? Was there a price for his death? Was he nothing more than a deer that was to die at all costs, and may the best hunter win?

Ichigo didn't get any time to ask, or wonder for long, as they all started cutting his skin at once, in attempts to be the one to land the killing blow. They pushed and shoved at each other to get the best angle for the sword. Ichigo was stabbed in several places, through the legs and arms. He felt the steel scrape against his bones and through his body.

"Stop." A calm, mighty sounding voice was suddenly heard over Ichigo's agonised screams.

"B-ut, Sir! He's to be executed!" One of the many attacking shinigami called.

"Yes, I know that. He will die on his own; he will not have the honour to die by our swords…" The owner of the voice stepped forward, he was dressed a captain's robe. Ichigo had never seen him before. He watched the large man unsheathed his sword and move toward him. Ichigo didn't even scream when the sword pierced his abdomen, cutting his body open from the middle of his belly and out on the side. A fatal wound. The pain was immense; his body twitched as the slim steel was pulled out of his body.

"…And none of your stupid bets will be rewarded." They stepped away, the captain's expression unreadable, the other's uncertain. But as the Captain turned and looked at his mobile phone as if he was already looking for the next hollow, they all left the narrow alley that Ichigo had thought would be his victory, not his downfall.

**End of Chapter**


	8. Empty

**Chapter 8: Empty**

A desperate, pained scream escaped Ichigo as he tried to crawl into the dark corner of the alleyway, his body torn and shattered. Fear twisted inside, his eyes wide.

He felt like he was the loneliest person in the world and the cold didn't make it any better.

The boy tried to make himself as small as possible under a cardboard box he had managed to pull closer. It was a pathetic excuse for shelter from the rain that had started to fall, but he had nothing to chose from. Whit a lot of effort Ichigo tried to sit up in the least painful position he could find.

He grabbed over the massive wound in a try to stop the immense bleeding, but the pressure only inscreased the pain, making him scream and thick tears form in his eyes.

"Ah…ah…" His breath was heavy and sweat coated his skin.

'It hurts, _it hurts_!' he thought desperatly as blood gushed out from the wound; his entire side was cut open, from where the ribcage ended to the navel. With every breath he could feel his organs shift inside, as if they were getting ready to fall out on the pavement at any second. Ichigo lay there, waiting for unconsciousness or death, but the pain only increased more and more for each passing moment.

'_Ichigo, you're dying.'_

He didn't want to die. Beacuse if he did he would most probably go to Soul Society wouldn't he? Where he wouldn't be. He refused to die; he couldn't just die and go to Soul Society to be murdered yet again.

Ichigo didn't respond to his hollows words as he refused to accept defeat. His body shook in pain, but he refused to die. But even so, when attempting to keep a firm scowl on his face, it soon faded along with the determination to be strong and brave, as the pain kept itself most fresh in his mind through sharp jolts, that pierced every part of his body and mind.

The boy started feeling inadequate, he couldn't do anything else but to lie and try not to bleed, scream and twitch in pain. Hopelessness engulfed him as he felt what perhaps was his kidney practically hurling itself out of his body when he had moved his elbow to sit a little more comfortably. He roared in pain and blood flew out of his gaping mouth.

'_Ichigo… I can help you make it stop.'_

"H-how?" he gasped, while his vision blurred as he fumbled after his organ, in a delirious wish to simply put it back inside of himself.

'_You can't run for you're life forever King. You need to make stand somewhere, somehow and I can help you, by making you not die.'_ His hollow paused before he went on; _'Let me help you, let a part of me out and I promise all the pain and misery will be gone, and you will heal. Just join with me, and we will be so much stronger... we are more one person than you think...'_

'... but how can you help me? There's no way-'

'_There is… but to do so, we'll have to get rid something… your heart...'_

'E-eat my own heart...? You... no, you can't be serious! I'm not going to do it…! I'm not going to eat any part of my body to make everything better!' He thought back, high sounding and panicked. His fingers fumble around the slimy pile on the ground that was his liver. With his eyes wide in horror, it was grabbed and with a high cry he pushed the already muddy organ back into himself.

'_Fucking idiot! What the hell are you doing! Don't put it back!'_ Shirosaki screeched at the boy's panicked actions_. 'Let me out! I'll help!'_ The inner demon's voice was dripping with panic as much as the orange haired boy's. _'Let me out now!'_

'_NO! _I'm not becoming a hollow!'

'_Ha! You never let me out, and look what happened!_' The hollow spat, his panic turning into twisted irritation and anger._ 'You're pathetic; fine! Let your sorry excuse for a corpse die here and now.'_

'No, I won't do it…!' Ichigo thought while squirming in pain, blood and froth sprayed from his lower lip as he gasped for air.

'_Tch… then die like a miserable little shit that you are! If you don't come along, you will die, I'll die! Hell, you just lost a damn organ. Can you heal it…? No you can't. Can you regenerate your lost blood? No you can't. Can you recover a lost limp? No you can't. Can you get hurt without dying? No you obviously can't!'_ A pause, then in a growl; _'I can.'_

Ichigo only answered in a whimper and a spasm of pain went through him, his mind almost slipping.

'_If you want to get out of this alive, you better eat that little shitty muscle of yours. Now.' _The inner demon ordered, the faintest hint of desperation echoing in his voice.

Ichigo squirmed and felt his organs shift again and his body run low on blood. He grabbed over the massive wound again, as the liver once again wanted to leave the warmth of his stomach. The boy could feel the mud it had brought with it tear at the rest of his guts. His vision started to darken and his mind reeled between desperate thoughts of not dying, the unbearable pain, dying, eating himself and dying.

In a moment of confusion, with his hollow's cooing encouragements to do what needed to be done, Ichigo lifted his thin arm and as it shook violently he began uncertainty to push blood smeared fingers against his chest. Soon the blunt nails were tearing skin that got stuck underneath them. But it was slow as he hardly had any power in his actions, the constant pain taking any muscle power away. But eventually, after what felt like forever of scraping and tearing, more fresh blood seeped out as flesh was removed and trembling fingers met with hard bone.

The boy whimpered and there was only an expression of horror as Ichigo felt his racing heart under only the cover of thick bone racks, he didn't know what to do, his decision that this was the only way beginning to slip. But as it did, his other arm jerked violently and fingers plunged flesh, sank in-between bone and pulled. Hard.

Ichigo screamed, shrieked as bone snapped and his merciless fingers closed around his beating muscle. He felt his own hand squeeze around it and as if the lights went out, Ichigo's mind was completely over taken by pain and there was nothing else. The rhythmic beat of his heart ceased to be as the arm he had no control over ripped the lump out.

He kept on to scream in purest agony, blood spraying from his mouth, but then it was abruptly stopped as his own heat was forcefully pushed inside it.

'_Eat it! Before you die!' _His hollow ordering voice boomed in Ichigo's empty mind.

Ichigo choked, but sank his teeth into the lump of flesh; the tough meat getting stuck between his teeth and the blood flowing out of it filled his throat and mouth. He chewed, his mind trying not to think that it was a part of himself he was eating, that he could hardly chew the thick, big veins. But he could feel all too well the shape of what he was eating. His eyes rolled back into his head as he swallowed the last pieces of his own heart.

Everything inside him was replaced with a cold and tight feeling.

The white bone mask crept its way across his face once again from his tear canals. His fingernails grew black and the boy's entire body grew a tad bonier; muscle-lines a little more apparent and his bony fingers became spider-like. It was as if everything in his body sank a little deeper inside, closer to the bone as if it was trying to hide away, disappear into itself.

His wounds slowly healed, the broken bones snapping back into place over where the heart once was, his cut up side melting together with some strange substance similar to his mask, the hollow regeneration slowly kicking in.

Then, with no warning, the hollow whole exploded in the boy's chest. His body twitched and jerked violently on the ground, his body heaving up and down as Ichigo gasped for air. What had once been there fell away in a corroding mass Ichigo felt his own blood rush out from the new hole. It gushed out of him like a thick dark river. Ichigo's heavy breaths increased and the blood flowed faster, until every last drop was out.

Then suddenly he stopped breathing all together. All feelings passed as he collapsed on the ground.

He lay in the now damp, blood soaked cardboard box; lay there like the soulless being he now was. He stared emptily into the sky, eyes void of all emotion and unblinking. His body felt numb and cold; but all the fear, sadness, anger, even happiness was gone. Only an empty feeling remained as nothing was there anymore.

He was hollow.

The body was a corpse, completely lax and dead looking; pale and smeared in its own blood. The mask that covered the remains of the corpse was the only thing that seemed to show anything at all. The boy's face beneath it held no emotion, a sharp contrast to the ever grinning mask.

Suddenly Ichigo's eye's shot open, meeting with a world that seemed to have lost its entire colour. Everything was grey and black, dead and dull; just like he was.

The body tightened and yet another spasm moved through him, like his limbs had been electrocuted. In a clumsy and uncontrolled way; the body managed to stand. The boy himself was hardly doing anything himself as his mind seemed to be lost. He dragged his feet that he could barely feel, his head hung heavy and he didn't see where he went, but it didn't matter; there was no destination in mind. Nothing was on his mind, only the empty feeling of nothingness remained. Nothing anymore. Bliss.

Ichigo slowly walked down the streets in the rain, all colour lost in his eyes, the world black and white. Somewhere in his mind he wondered what had happened to the world, but it didn't matter. Nothing did.

Everything was nothing.

He kept on walking, his body moving toward something he didn't know, but he knew there was something he needed to find. Anything to replace that ever eating, cold, tight and hollow feeling that his chest seemed constantly radiate.

The masked boy spotted something in the corner of his eye, but he reacted too slowly and when he had turned to see what it was, it was already gone. But he kept going in that direction as a soft moan escaping his lips.

Unknowingly, he had stepped into a road, and something slammed into his side hard, sending his body flying. He landed with in an odd angel, his legs laying him, his knee connecting with his shoulder, clearly broken.

But there was no pain, only a simple grunt and a couple of attempts on standing before he succeeded. His left leg barely hanged on to his body, but it twitched when he moved it.

The urge to find what was lost was strong enough to make him keep walking, for he was after all only a shell of a human body, a corpse, and pain did no longer exist.

He walked on, ever so slowly, as the shattered bone in his leg would slowly crumble every time weight was briefly put upon it, his body not healing the least when there was no blood to heal with.

Then suddenly he saw it, what he needed to find. It was like seeing water in the desert, like seeing light in complete darkness. It was like a rainbow was walking past him; shining light into his grey world.

Ichigo's eyes fixed on the form, brown eyes shining dully through the mask. He hurried after it, followed its trail of light when he lost the main form. He wanted that light. Now.

His arms hung limply at his sides and his pace quickened. With his foot still heavily dragged against the pavement, his socks ripped and exposing his still paling skin, his bony fingers twitched as he slowly approached his target, step by step.

As he drew ever nearer and finally catching up with it, he saw a human body, a woman was the source of the glow. But he didn't register it; to him it was just an urge to take it, to claim that light as his own. There were no decision, no thought. Just pure and primal instinct.

Ichigo's arm shot out by itself and his fingers met with the soft part of her face.

His fingers pulled out from her skull and the woman fell to the ground. Ichigo's mouth opened and his tongue moved out, past his mask, to meet with blood covered fingers. The taste and sensation it gave off made him gasp when the blood made its way down his throat. His mind slowly stirred from where it lay dead within the brain.

Every drip of blood sent a feeling of euphoria sparks through his numb body. It was intoxicating and he wanted, needed, more; a lot more.

He squatted down beside the twitching and screaming woman. He smelled the oddly glowing blood and breathed it in deeply, now shivering with delight; Ichigo began to slowly suck up the woman's warm and invigorating blood.

After a moment of indulging himself, he looked up with cold eyes and grabbed the woman's arm. He sank his own and the masks dull teeth deep into the meat and began to rip at it slowly, to taste. The taste overwhelmed his dulled brain and yet again he needed more.

The boy grunted and ripped of the flesh, with clothes and all as he was too elated to take notice. The screaming woman tried to fight what she could not see, that ate at her arm, but no avail; Ichigo's numb off body hardly noticed the weak kicks that hit his ribs.

Nevertheless Ichigo bit down on the woman's face, who had now stopped screaming. He got a firm hold on the cheek with his teeth, growled, moved his skeleton hands over her face; got a steady hold with his mouth and moved is head and upper body backward in a quick, hard movement. The flesh tore apart. A shiver went thought the boy's body as the woman's life flowed into him. The more he ate, the clearer he could see her glowing life force in her blood.

Ichigo licked it off from the exposed teeth, licked in side the mouth, over the slack tongue, moved forward and pushed his tongue down woman's throat.

The boy ripped and pulled at the softest places he could find, tore at the flesh and quickly ate it, taking in more in his mouth with each bite. He swallowed gulp after gulp of blood. The blood that was all his to take.

Ichigo sucked harshly at the limp body, nothing else mattered more than getting that burning feeling into every single cell of his body. He felt his veins burn and then, suddenly, his muscles seemed to contract and he felt his chest move. His newly formed hollow hole was closing. It quickly twisted, ripped and painfully shut itself and left no mark of ever being there. In that exact moment the boy became whole and perfect.

Ecstasy rushed through his veins and his pupils dilated until almost his entire iris was completely black. A strong feeling of euphoria exploded from within as life filled his entire being and his world exploded in a flash of the purest white and all the worlds colours returned. Ichigo moaned, screamed and writhed on the ground in pleasure. His usually sour face distorted into one beaming with joy.

Somewhere far away Ichigo could hear insane sounds of laughter that almost sounded like a roar at times. It seemed to bellow in his ears, shake his entire being with each wave of laughter. Soon Ichigo realised he was the one that lay there laughing madly, sounding very much like his own hollow.

Shirosaki's voice was his own; his actions were his own. He was more one with his hollow then he had ever been before and he no longer knew any other life than the one the body he had eaten had given him.

**End of Chapter**


	9. Resurrected

**Chapter 9: Resurrected**

Ichigo grabbed at his smooth chest where the whole used to be. It felt strange; he couldn't feel any bone underneath it, as if just a thin layer of skin covered it. Suddenly it felt soft as he pushed against it and his skin buckled inwards.

His eyes widened beneath the mask when he felt something warm and wet on his fingertips. He lifted his hands to his eyes. He saw blood.

"Wha…?" He looked at his chest again.

Dark blood squirted out of a very small whole in the centre of where his hollow hole had been. The thin beam grew and thickened. Ichigo moved his palm to push against it, in a try to stop the bleeding. It only resulted in him starting to cough and hack up the blood through his mouth.

Ichigo spun around on the ground to lie on his stomach, to ease the vomiting. As he did so his eyes widened when he felt something wet tickle down his back. He touched the spot the best he could, when he moved it back; it was covered in warm blood.

Before he really had time to worry, the beam of blood exploded into a river and Ichigo's full whole took its place in his chest once more and his mind split completely with his hollow once again, turning into two sides of the same coin.

Instead of loosing himself again as Ichigo feared he would, he felt fine. Or really good actually, the rush of ecstasy still lingered within. He felt normal again, or at least as normal as he could feel. The feeling in his limbs fully returned and the world was most colourful again.

Ichigo could feel that he hadn't lost all the blood he had just drunk, because if he had; he would turn into that mindless state again would he not...? He figured that he had just lost the leftovers.

He looked himself over, fingering the hole in his chest gingerly, touching his pale skin. His hole was pretty creepy looking, hell; he could practically look into his own lungs. Seeing his gruesome insides, he averted his eyes towards the blood covered ground.

He spotted his hand; his nails and noticed that they had become the purest black, almost looked like he had nail polish on. He frowned at that.

'_Aww, don't like it, King?' _Shirosaki taunted, apparently feeling as fine as Ichigo. _'You got my nails.'_

Ichigo shrugged. At the moment he didn't really care, he felt too good to care about anything. He stayed on the ground, resting and felt his muscles vibrate with the new life in his system. Eventually he stood up with ease, his whole body felt new, as if it had been restarted. It felt good.

The boy flexed his thin arms. They moved fast, faster than before. As he moved his new powered, but frailer looking body around, he realized he had not taken Zangetsu with him on his mindless hunt for life. Ichigo turned around on the spot, stepped over the dead body, doing his best not to look and ignore it, he went to retrieve his cleaver.

With Zangetsu hanging over his back again, he returned to the dead woman. He didn't know why he had gone back, since it was a gruesome sight. But something had pulled him there again; maybe it was just the way all dead bodies seemed to draw eyes to them or perhaps that it was his very first victim. He didn't like what he had done as he stared at the bloody heap on the ground. How ruthless hadn't he been? Silently he wondered if he would become a mindless monster every time hunger would grip his soul with its claws. Yet somehow, he couldn't bring himself to fully care.

The boy shuddered at the thought and cancelled the summoning of his mask, watching it crumble to the ground. He turned his back to the corpse. Hadn't he seen hollows swallow people whole…? In all his days off killing other hollows, he had never come across such a bloody body as he himself had created. The flesh he had eaten had fallen to the ground from his new born hole when he had swallowed it…

Ichigo made a funny face. He didn't like the 'chomp everyone into pieces' idea. He could of course wait until all the energy he had was used up and go into that mindless zombie state again… but the memory of being a slave to the hunger and not really being there, just having that empty, eating feeling wasn't fun. No it was more than not fun, it was horrifying.

After washing himself in a small puddle, he found himself clueless on what to do. The thought of shinigami appearing and attack flashed across his mind and he drew his cleaver without even realising it.

His vision swept the area and after detecting no signs of life, he sheathed his weapon again. What he did notice though was that his eyesight had become remarkably better and everything seemed to glow faintly. The rain still poured down onto his face, but he didn't care. Instead a small smirk almost appeared on his lips as he still savoured the lingering feeling and memories of pure ecstasy. He couldn't stop himself from not caring about anything. He had after all, just cheated death, and the reward right now was exhilarating. He didn't know that a hollow's life could be filled with such positive feelings.

But then he scowled when his own thoughts reminded him what he had had to do to become so alive. Something that until just an hour or a few hours ago he had considered one of the most cruel acts one could commit. How many hollows hadn't he slayed without knowing… without knowing what it really meant to be a hollow? He had never even imaged the horrors a hollow had gone through were this bad, or how good it could be.

The boy ran his left hand over his wet face and through his damp, dirty hair. Did even Rukia know…? Were they taught the agony a hollow felt on that school of theirs or just told to cut its mask in two when they stumbled across one? Rukia had never told him that "eating their heart out" was literally spoken; he had always thought it was just figuratively speaking and that the hole, well, just appeared.

The thought of Rukia made the boy wonder how everyone was doing. He had barely thought of them in all this time. He'd simply gotten used to being alone for so long that it didn't bother him too much; thus thought of the others didn't cross his mind. Yuzu, Karin, his father… Inoue, Chad, Ishida… they all flashed in front of his eyes.

He frowned. Ichigo knew they would never accept him now with the removal of his own heart. But what was he supposed to have done, die…? His usual frown turned into a stern looking scowl. He had to bury those memories, somewhere he wouldn't think about them. Such thoughts would only get in the way, he knew it. Hell, he didn't have a heart anymore; why did he even care…?

Ichigo stomped his feet into the ground, making water splash around him. Why did he care!

'_Because you're still a little bit shinigami. Sure, you'll go numb and everything that matters will die when you have nothing left to fuel your own body with. But, you just filled it up, so you feel things, you are as much alive as you can ever be!' _Shirosaki's bright voice echoed in his head; _'Every hollow you fought talked to you, didn't it? Every hollow fought for its life, every hollow screamed as you made it die, because they all had a _consciousness. _Just like you do now… __idiot.'_

'Oh, shut up!' Ichigo fumed at the last comment and started walking away from where he was. 'Let's go, asshole.' Ichigo mumbled to end their small conversation.

'_Pfft… as you wish, King.'_

The angry boy pushed his hollow down into the depths of his soul and went from a sloppy walk to sprinting. He ran along old cracked walkways, through water puddles and eventually found himself running alongside cars on a small highway, zipping between them. His body burned with new power and just moving felt like freedom. As he moved on, he saw small beams of light in every vehicle on the road, they didn't shine as bright as that woman had once done, but still it was a strange sight.

It was as if they flickered on and off whenever the steel of the cars they sat in would hide the souls from view or when Ichigo had to blink furiously to get cold rain water out of his eyes. Some shone stronger than others, but they all seemed to give of a certain smell just as strongly.

It was strong enough to be sensed over the cars pollution and the flowers last blooming before complete winter. It smelled like the taste of honey. It was the best similarity Ichigo could give it. Thick, sweet honey.

After running for sometime along the broad road, Ichigo jumped up and gracefully landed on top of a bigger car with ease, hitching a ride to wherever the driver went, something he had done quiet a few times.

The ice cold water from the rain bumped against his still paling skin like needles. The harsh winds swept in between his fluttering clothes and directly into his lungs through his hole. It made his head spin as if he was hyperventilating. Even so he kept a firm grip on the rails on the cars roof, even when he felt his hands go numb from bitter cold and the water in his eyes freeze.

He sat there for a while, trying to get into a streamline position, to ease off the harsh winds and as the car finally drove thought a city, long after Ichigo's patience was lost, he jump off it. His arms were numb, his fingers unresponsive, his face felt stiff and it hurt when he moved his mouth. His eyes felt irritated and kept forming tears that ran down his cold cheeks, freezing them even more.

The boy rubbed his eyes with bony fingers, but his knuckles, or his entire hands; where still dirty from blood and rain, it only made irritation worse. He let out a faint whimper as his eyes burned, not wanting to open due to the dirt.

He wrapped his arms around himself. It was cold, too damn cold. He shivered as he sat down and curled into a ball against a wall. Had it been this cold before as well? Or was it simply that he didn't have anything to sustain his body heat more? He pulled his torn clothes tighter to himself. He glanced around himself through bloodshot, watery eyes, scanning for possible threats, his paranoid mind never stopping to expect an attack at any moment.

He spotted small light sources here and there, insects he figured and even the trees seemed to hold a strange shine of their own. He tried to look away, but wherever he put his gaze, he always saw something shine. It disturbed him greatly. He knew it was life he was seeing and smelling, life that blossomed brightly, unlike himself. He was slowly dying and he knew it. It was just a matter of time before his hole would start screaming again. It made him want to build a hole that he would never crawl up from ever again.

The humans were the worst, their eyes shining as if they were on fire, their entire body glowing like they were angels descended from the heavens. As they stomped past him, busy with their lives, unaware of his lost soul sitting on the cold stone only inches away, Ichigo couldn't help but to stare. He tried not to feel the urge to claim that light for himself burn inside. It ate him away.

The boy hid his face between his arms, not wanting to see. He welcomed the blackness and tried to shut out the smell of honey that clogged his nose, no matter how hard it was. It made him want to scream, but he kept his mouth shut. He had to stay quiet, he did after all, not know if there perhaps was a shinigami close by. Ichigo bit his lip, what if he was just another dot of the hollow's on the tracking sensors they had now? So much easier to find… He curled tighter together, his fingers digging into his legs as he tried to block everything out; the bitter cold, the light, the hunger, the smell, the constant paranoia; the very world he sat in and soon he felt himself falling into his own torn soul.

Brown eyes met with a dark sky, a black sun that shone without rays and dry winds blew through the horizontal city and through his orange hair. Ichigo glanced nervously at the sun; he hadn't thought that his sanctuary would change along with him. It had never done it before, not matter how much trouble he was in. As his eyes wandered he spotted a familiar white form, and quickly flash stepped to it.

"_The sun still shines like it did before, but it just looks black. Guess it symbolises our hole, hey? How cool is that?"_ The hollow nudged Ichigo's shoulder as he laughed his mad laughter, easily seeing on Ichigo's expression that he wasn't the least pleased with the change before he could utter anything about it.

Ichigo didn't laugh with him; he could not see the funny part in any of it. Instead hideous storm clouds started to mix with the rain as Ichigo's temper rose.

"You said it would be all better! You fuckin' lied!" The orange haired teen spat in Shirosaki's face as his hands tightened into fists.

Shirosaki rolled his yellow eyes in response and crossed his arms, completely unfazed by the threatening gestures. _"I just said your pain and misery would end. I never defined if 'end' meant for all time or just for the moment. You really should learn to listen."_

"Oh, and you are so damn prefect and always interoperate everything the right way, don't you! You always do everything right, say everything right!" Raindrops fell from the sky, in an uneven pattern. Ichigo could not hide his feelings in here, hide that his replicas constants arrogance and infuriating cocky smile was getting the better of him.

"_Tsh!"_ A white hand slapped the orange boy across the face, hard enough to leave a red trail behind. _"Get a hold of yourself! You better suck it up, Ichigo. I saved you from dying!_" He spat, his own temper rising at the others words._ 'I could have devoured you right there and then, hell I can do it now if I feel like it! But I don't want to eat a pathetic little shit like you. Or you want me to eat you? There won't be a fuckin' little paradise waiting around the corner for you, you know."_ The hollow scowled. _"I did you a rather huge favour and…"_ Shirosaki lifted his open palm into the air, catching raindrops in it. _"… you're frickin' crying about it! Don't you think I feel the hole tearing in my chest as well? Hell yea I do, just as much as you!' _His voice rose steadily in volume.

'_You can't just expect it to not hurt when you only eaten one single pathetic human! Think for yourself for once! We are strong. You can't just expect such small amount of life to be enough too make it stop hurting!"_

Ichigo fell silent and looked away. But soon his frown twitched and rain increased with sound of loud thunder as he screamed again. "But how do I make it stop! I don't want this desolation and despair! I can't stand it!"

"_Isn't it obvious! Eat more and stronger souls! You felt the ecstasy! Go get it again, by eating, drinking more blood, more life! The more you eat, the more you'll reserve in your body! You can't be perfect from the start always! Maybe you were as a shinigami but your body has never been a hollow!"_

Ichigo cringed under Shirosaki's screeching voice and looked away again, but gasped as black nailed fingers gripped his trembling shoulder, clenching into his flesh and forcing him to look at the golden eyes.

"_Stop running, King. It's a bad habit. You can't run away from this one Ichigo, no matter what. So don't even try." _The hollow's voice was more a whisper now, a low threatening one. _"You are stuck in this shitty pile now, so you better make the best of it, whether you like it or not."_

Ichigo moved backwards hastily, to tear his shoulder away from the paler teens grip with a loud snivel. He narrowed his eyes at the hollow, not liking being threatened. "Fine! Be that way! Just make it all sound so fucking easy! It's not! Not for me!"

Before the white haired one had the chance to response, both boys' attention was turned to the outside world where they felt those ugly things that always hunted them. Shinigami. Faces turned dark with spite and Ichigo quickly left his soul's world.

As he resurfaced; all sense of time gone. He had been gone longer than he thought. His neck hurt as he moved and his body was even stiffer than before when he rose from the freezing ground. The boy almost fell, but leaned his shoulder against the wall and felt vomit reflexes rise as the honey smell filled his nostrils once again. He was stiff cold and in a bad mood. Could the shinigami have chosen a worse time to show up? He didn't have time for this.

But nevertheless he straightened and dragged his feet away from the threat. He adverted his eyes every time he walked past a human, trying not to think about how much better he would feel if he ate one, tried to ignore the urges to attack. He trailed his hands along the cold brick walls, focusing on following them to avoid looking at anything else. He barely felt his fingers bump against the rugged surfaces, didn't feel his skin become unstrung.

Slowly he felt the shinigami energy that he or she seemed to ooze out fade as he shuffled his frozen body to the outer parts of the city, or maybe it was just an old park he ended up in, he didn't know. At least here he couldn't feel the shinigami anymore or see anything else than faintly glowing threes. Nor was the stench from the humans as pressing here.

The wall he was trailing along soon ended in a broken mass of overgrown growths and rocks, and he climbed on top of it. Sighing in relief that he had escaped the shinigami without any incident, he tried to stop the cold from moving past his clothes. He sure as hell didn't feel like fighting anyone, not that he had felt like it for a long time.

As his thoughts wandered, when he sat hunched on the old stonewall in the moonlight, he wondered if every hollow felt the way he did. If they all had this feeling that something was constantly being eaten away from within. But Ichigo wasn't stupid; he knew it was the life he had taken from the woman that he was using up. He felt how it slipped away from him with every movement.

Slowly he moved his hand in front of his face to look at it against the light from the moon. He could clearly see the change of colour; his tanned skin was gone and growing paler by the hour. His nails were almost claw-like now, or perhaps that was just his imagination. He flexed his fingers.

Rubbing his hands against each other; he tried to get some life back into them they felt ice cold, along with the rest of his body. He tried to cover himself with his ripped clothes; but they were nothing more than dirty rags now. The boy curled into a ball as hateful thought's of what the shinigami had done and made him do to himself poisoning his mind. He could feel his hollow fuel his hate, but he didn't care; he let it press into his own angry thoughts for they for once shared an opinion about something just as strongly.

The anger that came from everywhere made the boy's blood rush, his lips flushed and the bone mask crawled its way over his face without him summoning it. His hole ached more than before and Ichigo's face darkened underneath the hardened bone. His hole burned and Ichigo screamed as his mind cursed the shinigami for making him choose such fate. He blamed it all on them as the world started to lose its brilliant colours once more and his hole begged to be closed as Ichigo's scream turned into a hideous agonised roar. A cry of desperation and agony so animal, it made the gap where his heart once was start tearing itself wider. It was the cry of someone who had lost everything, and had no reason left to live, no place to go or even hide. He had nothing at all.

'_Close the hole, King. Close it, close it, close it.'_ His hollow's voice was like venom.

Ichigo whimpered, not wanting to kill. But it wasn't long until the desperation and need merged into something that stifled all else until he found himself arching towards it willingly, embracing it with his entire being.

It wasn't long before he found himself running, running after the closest soul he could find, may it be a dog, human, bird, it didn't matter, as long as it would make the horrible, tight feeling and cold go away. He slipped down, drowning in ebony desires.

The black cat that he randomly came across hissed as it twisted between his bony hands. But even when the animal sank its claws deep into Ichigo's flesh, he wouldn't let it go. The instincts were too great, blocking out all else.

With a determent movement he shoved the cats back into his mouth. His tongue moved around the fur covered skin; he pulled and ripped at the skin several times before he managed to draw blood with his dull teeth.

Once blood seeped out from the limp body of the small animal; Ichigo shivered violently as it ran down his dry throat and refreshed his body. His hole started to shrink violently in cramp like twitches, but it never closed. The cat was simply not enough to still the empty, ever screaming hole in his chest. At least it has turned smaller and wasn't as hard to bear; its need to close wasn't as demanding anymore. It was easier to breath and the world turned a little brighter, the ache and hate subdued a little. But still it burned within and no matter how faint it was, he knew he would never forgive the shinigami for their acts.

He headed west, going where his nose pointed to find the next creature that could still the screaming hole in his chest and perhaps reheat his cold huddled form. But his body started feeling heavy and his head ached dully from lack of sleep and it wasn't long until he found himself once again next to that broken, overgrown wall. The moon no longer illuminated it; but it didn't matter.

He crawled together into a ball at its base; Zangetsu's securing shape between his knees and arms, his back and perfectly circular hole facing the world as he drifted off into a dreamless, uneasy sleep.

**End of Chapter**


	10. Going Under

**Chapter 10: Going Under**

Weary eyes opened, heavy from too little sleep. Stiff limps cramped as Ichigo tried to move away from where he was, pushed firmly into grass and rock.

He could easily feel that he had not moved at all during his slumber. He had been sleeping as stiffly as the dead.

Lazy, cold winds met with his scrawny form and he hunched his shoulders, moved his arms together, over the abnormal nothingness in his bony chest and pressed what was left of his clothes around it. Ichigo closed his darkly rimmed eyes and tried to ignore its presence. He knew that it would soon start screaming again...

He was still cold and he could feel the very inside of his lungs freeze along with the rest of him. His breath formed steam-trails in front of his face and rose into the air until it faded into nothing. A shiver went down his spine and his chest ached. After struggling up from the ground, he started walking slowly forward. His back was hunched; the large cleaver on his back feeling too heavy for his body.

The tattered boy followed the walkway in front of him, not knowing where it led, dragging himself along the ground, through grass and gravel until his torn sandals and socks met with asphalt. There he turned to the right, walking down a deserted street. But suddenly he stopped, his bony arms cramping around his chest, his body leaning heavily against a cold wall and he sank to the ground as his body started twitching.

The hunger came like it did before, gripping him like an iron fist. It burned into the front of his mind until everything else seemed to fade and a hideous scream bubbled up the young boy's throat. He rocked back and forth on the ground, not wanting to feel the agony it brought with it, the pain it held as veins turned dry from lack of life and the darkness started to approach. He wanted someone to come and carry him away from where he was, away from the horrible, horrible feeling of turning into a corpse. Ichigo wondered why he had fallen into such ill fate, why did the hollowness in his chest have to be such a burden…? He didn't want it anymore, not one bit. He squeezed his eyes shut.

A wind met with his pained face that carried certain scent with it, a scent that made his eyes open wide. It was sweet and tantalizing, making him long for it enough for him to push himself off the cold ground. Thick puss like matter crawled over his face unwillingly; the mask forming as hunger grew, growing like a monster inside of him that wanted to burst out.

Ichigo turned his head around, the mask hardening on the boy's face and he knew he had no chose but to follow that smell, or he would end up following it sooner or later anyway, as he would loose control like he had done before. He closed his weary eyes again, the morning sun that was still rising stinging them. A soft, pained moan escaped him and with a sigh he wearily turned his body around, heading for the sweet smell.

At first he walked slowly, dragging his body with him, but as the hunger started to get in the way of all his other his thoughts, he started running. He passed a corner, knowing the source was near and let out a blood curling roar as the human in front of him escaped his reaching hand by mere millimeters.

The light from the man was overwhelming, the body shining like a beacon, obviously owning enough spirit energy to see the dead. Ichigo ran after the human that seen him, his mask and heard his roar.

Even if it was a mere human, it ran away fast, but still much too slow as Ichigo easily gained on him. The closer the boy got, the heavier and more uncontrolled his breath become, the mans strong sent making his mind reel, the small amount remaining blood from the cat he ate before rushing fast within him. Ichigo's thin legs took long lopes and his sinewy arm clawed after the human. He wanted the human now; he would not allow his word to become any grayer.

But somewhere in his mind he couldn't help but to cringe inwardly at the thought that killing had become so easy in a blink of an eye, that raging hunger could change a person so fast and so sudden. Or was he simply too easily influenced by its strong grip…? Still he jumped, high into the air like a cat and landed hands first on the man. The force of the impact made the human male fall hard onto concrete with scream. Ichigo pushed his knees into his back, immobilising his victim.

Without thinking anymore, getting lost in his growing hunger unwillingly, his fingers grabbed brown hair and smashed the skull hard against ground. Again and again. The bone cracked and bled, smearing blood over Ichigo's hands and arms. His eyes were wide as his head lowered, tongue darting out and his jaw closed around crushed bones. Greedily he swallowed it all. There was no caring for anything anymore; there was only instinct to stop the hole in his chest from getting anymore painful.

Teeth pushed into warm flesh, hot dark blood oozed out into his awaiting mouth, running past his, his dried lips and down his throat. His eyes widened, pupils instantly dilating as fresh blood coursed through his veins once again, sending a burning heat through it and awakening it.

Loud grunts escaped his body, the beast within being just beneath the skin. The blood was so invigorating he couldn't help but to smile as he drank, the euphoric feeling drawing near. It moved through his veins, tearing their shrivelled form open, filled them with new life and his hole started to shrink, the agony and hunger leaving his being.

But as he pushed his masked face deeper into the back of the man, another hungry beast approached. The creature resembled something of a canine, body rough and unformed, its beady eyes shining beneath an expressionless white mask. Another hollow had come crawling at the sent of spilled blood.

Ichigo instantly noticed its presence, his eyes glaring at it and he growled dangerously. But it slowly crept closer, looking like it tried to beg for a bite of the remaining body.

Ichigo wouldn't let it, his head leaving the dead human, biting off whatever was still hanging outside his mouth, thick dark blood running down his chin, dripping onto the ground or smearing over his torn clothes. He felt his anger rise, it was his prey, no one was going it touch it! Instincts ranged inside. His prey. His. His. His.

The blood smeared teen rose from the corpse he had been attached to like a leech, leaned forwards in an aggressive pose, his muscles flexing and his fingers spreading as if they were claws. Out of his throat a roar erupted, shaking the earth.

He lashed out as toward the approaching monster and hissed at it when it wouldn't leave. No one was going go eat what was his. He screamed at it again, warning it not to come any closer, the way of speaking forgotten in his blind hunger. But the creature did not listen to the warning scream, only looming closer, lost in its own need to feed.

Ichigo charged toward it, Zangetsu long since forgotten and he clawed at the monsters mask; tore at its flesh. He even sank his dull teeth into its rubber like skin. His punches were enough to create deep dents in the hollows flesh and its mask started to crack when Ichigo's fist met with it. The hollow roared, saliva flying from its mouth and its large fangs showed underneath the mask. It rose on its hind legs, claws extending from its paw. The monster swung it down hard, colliding with Ichigo's own masked face.

He fell back, his neck and head pushing back too far, his scalp slamming into concrete. Orange hair turned red as fresh hot blood oozed out if it. His body slumped to the ground, limp. Eyes stared blankly into the air, mouth lax.

The other hollow's attention left Ichigo's body as soon as it went down, the human one much more inviting. It quickly crawled over to it, long fangs sinking easily into the human body and the large deformed hollow started to slowly devour it whole, its tongue warping around the body to push it into its throat more easily. It grunted loudly, the blood from the body having the same effect on it as it did with Ichigo.

A sickening snap was heard. Bone crunched loudly, but not loudly enough to overcome the heavy grunts of the eating hollow as Ichigo's neck shot back up, his neck moving back into position. Pupils focused quickly and Ichigo gasped through a still blood filled mouth. The boy's body suddenly burned and twitched back into life, the neck connected with the rest of the body again. He stiffly rose from the ground, arms and legs still twitching. He felt the wind blow over his head, the blood on his scalp turning into white hardening bone that covered the once bleeding, crushed skull.

Ichigo moved around stupidly on the ground, limps hardly doing what he wanted, failing around him, stiff and clumsy. He fell to the ground again with a moan, his world swaying around him and he forced himself up yet again, his body getting easier to move as he healed. He staggered forward, a grunt of a scream escaping his throat as he approached the hollow that had taken his meat, his blood, his life. But the big monster in front of him ignored his presence and Ichigo screeched at it, stomped his feet, roared and waved bony arms.

"Take your fucking claws off _my_ prey!" He roared, his rough twisted voice echoing. His mind was coming to its senses as a lot of blood had been used to heal his broken neck and head, taking the ecstasy away, but still leaving enough behind to make him a little clear headed.

He drew his sharp cleaver, its metal shining in the light from the street lamps. The other hollow immediately jumped back, hissing at the weapon more than its wielder. Ichigo hissed back just as fiercely, his throat vibrating.

Swinging the heavy blade, he released it at the end of the motion, sending it hurtling through the air, straight through the hollow's shoulder, into its lungs, making it collapse on the ground, roaring in agonising pain. Ichigo's breath heaved through his nostrils as he leaped upon its body, pulled out his cleaver and before the hollow had the time to heal, if it even could, he sank the weapon deep into its back, through its spine to render it defenceless. The monster stopped moving; its limbs no longer connected to its brain, its large body forming a massive heap on the concrete.

The smell of blood from the monster beneath the boy sent Ichigo's mind towards madness again and before he knew it he was tearing at the monsters flesh, to take back the human blood it had stolen from him. Fingers dug deep into its skin to tear and plunge though flesh, his entire arm sinking into the hollows body. He pulled it out quickly, drenched in blood and he couldn't help but to lick at his own hand.

There were no thoughts behind his actions as he hungrily ate the hollow, drinking the human blood that flowed within its veins. The meat wasn't good, dead and dry as his probably also was when he hadn't eaten himself, but he didn't care and swallowed it just as greedily as any meat, feeling the lumps of dead flesh and intestines fall out of the hole in his chest, as only the blood was absorbed.

Thin arms plunged the body further, digging deep in its organs to get every drop out of the other hollow and into his own system as fast as he could, the hole in his chest almost closing. He bit, tore and as his body shook violently when his hole forcefully slammed shut he fell to the ground. The beast swivelled away in front of him, the small teen having eaten all its life, making it die and disappear from the face of the earth.

Ichigo himself twisted on the ground, his fingers curled together in cramp like manners as all his veins were forced open again. His eyes were bloodshot, lips swollen and his entire body flustered with blood. Loud laughs burst out of his mouth again, his own grin wider than the one on his blood covered bone mask. Mad laughter echoed between the buildings that turned into hysterical giggles from time to time to soon heighten in melody and turned into pleased screams. His spirit energy burst out of him in the same way, unable to control himself as he felt so very complete and there was nothing else but purest joy.

As he lay there on the ground, smiling and laughing along with the hollow within him, happiness bursting through his being, something towered over him, something clad in black and with a shiny object in its hand. Ichigo's dilated eyes widened beneath the mask and he rolled to the side, still laughing madly while dodging an incoming sword.

He couldn't stop smiling or crackling frantically even as the shinigami stabbed after him, trying to hit him. But Ichigo easily avoided every attempt with sleek movements, his blood filled body making him faster, much too fast for the female shinigami. He twisted his body away and picked up the cleaver he had left unattended on the ground with one fluid movement. The woman went down immediately as her gut was cut open, organs welling out.

Ichigo's mad uncontrolled laugher increased as his fingers tore through skin, through flesh; his other hand dropping his weapon again before clenching into a first to collide with the shinigami's jaw. The woman screamed, choked to see her life end so fast and suddenly as her blood flowed out of her.

The light the spirit-energy gave off was intense, bright and warm to Ichigo's eyes, even when his own world had gained all its colors and life back._ This_ was like an angel descending from the sky, not the humans. The blood-like substance of highly concentrated spirit energy was like liquid gold and its smell clogged Ichigo's lungs. _Too bright, too sweet._

Some twisted sound between a primal growl and happiness burned from somewhere deep inside him. He was high, beyond anything he had ever been as he shoved his entire face into the open abdomen of the wounded woman, lapping at the innards, the energy sweeter than anything he had even tasted. He tore at the flesh and swallowed gulp after gulp. Ichigo understood why other hollows favoured shinigami above regular souls. He understood it very well.

The taste was better than best, better than anything he had ever tasted. The rush was indescribable and his body shook as he screamed more than laughed with joy. He didn't really hear himself this time either, his mind much too dazed. He couldn't consume all the energy and blood, his body filled up to the brim, but the smile on his lips never faltered even as he had trouble standing.

But as soon as he managed to focus enough to stand firmly, two more black clothes figures came. They seemed nervous as Ichigo turned to stare at them, drops of black ink poisoning the whites of his eyes as he did, brown turning into burning yellow as his inner demon fuelled his body for what he knew would become a fight. The teen grinned madly at them, the ecstasy still rushing through his body, his hollows laughter's echoing loudly within his skull.

Ichigo saw them move as in slow motion when they attacked and he easily blocked the downward swings and countered with a strike of his own, one of them falling to the ground instantly. Ichigo leapt up to the air, perching on the ledge of a building before he spun around to block another attack, his strength easily overpowering the other. But soon he realised, that the shinigami's where not there to strike him down, two were much too few to do so and he knew they knew it as well. Their attacks were not swung to kill, he could easily feel it, even whit his drugged mind.

Somewhere in the back of his psyche, behind his raging instincts and pressing urges, he could recognise one of the men. He had seen the man with blond hair over his eye, the long slim sad looking face, but he could not place it. But the screaming of his own hollow, laughter and the desire that ran hard in his veins was too strong for him to listen to his own thoughts and his body lashed out on its own, his legs colliding with soft body parts and he heard screams.

Old blood went flying from Ichigo's mouth as he screamed and his muscles flexed. He wanted more blood, we wanted to drown it the rush it gave him again, make the world disappear in thick happiness, even if the one from the female was still lingering in his body. He growled and quickly flash-stepped behind the weaker shinigami, black nailed fingers closing around his neck and with the other one he stuck his cleaver straight through the body and followed with it down as it fell to the ground.

Again he was lost in ecstasy, bathing in shining the energy, engulfed in it. His face was covered in its thick substance, mouth greedily swallowing it, his body bursting with life. It almost seemed to grow as he tore at the limp body's muscles. His eyes rolled into his skull and he moaned uncontrollably, the rush almost too much and he fell to the ground completely again, his body still shaking. He wondered if he could ever get enough...

But suddenly he started to get a regurgitating feeling and it wasn't long until his chest started to bleed; a thin beam at first then it grew violently. Ichigo started to vomit blood that was no longer needed and it sprayed out of his chest and mouth as he leaned forward. Heaps of blood splattered over the pavement.

Just as suddenly as he had started to vomit, he quickly straightened up in shock, his pupils contracting.

Shinigami. So many. He felt them clearly, ten folds of them, if not more.

"Shit!" He cursed loudly, sheeted his cleaver on his back for easier running and jumped high into the air, channelled spirit-energy into his feet to get even higher. But as soon as he was above houses, his eyes didn't meet an empty over view of the city, it met with a full shinigami squad. Ichigo gasped, even when blood still forcefully pushed its way up his throat or out of his growing hole.

He drew his cleaver again, its cloth swaying behind his thin form. He stood on toe, ready to avoid whatever was thrown at him. His eyes darted quickly back and forth in their sockets, careful not to miss anyone that may try to catch him off guard.

The shinigami moved closer as a mob, everyone of them bent on carrying out the order to put him down without a single word of acknowledgment, as if he was too simple to understand words.

The masked boy stepped back, his mind reeling between the options of what to do. All the while his hollow whispered of consuming them all alive, taking what was theirs for himself. The hole's pressing form was back after all.

The urge was strong, the will to taste that golden blood again, to feel it caress his insides, to make him more alive than ever. He wanted it, he wanted it _now_. So badly that he could not think clearly.

It was going to be all his as he jumped from the invisible ground of his own spirit-energy, cleaver ready to cut that light free for him to consume. But the mass of black clothed men were ready and blocked his black weapon with one strong gathered movement. Swords in all kinds of shapes flashed in front of his eyes and his cleaver moved with immense speed to block and defend its wielder.

But no matter how fast it was, ten folds of sword could not all be blocked at once. Dagger-, axe-, spear-, knife-like swords all pierced his flesh before he knew it. The world seemed to slow down as his already small pupils contracted in shock and his newly clamed blood started to pour out of the holes that were left behind as weapons were pulled back. He never had the chance to heal before he was stuck by them again; through his arms, abdomen, legs, neck; everywhere.

Ichigo screamed. Before his body fell to the ground, he felt his inner demon graphs control over his bleeding limbs and flash-step away from the glowing shinigami group. The metal blades in his body caused even bigger wounds as his body moved against them.

The boy didn't land gracefully or in any comfortable way to spare him pain. His body landed hipbone first on hard ground, his head almost bursting as it slammed into concrete. His skin on his arms and legs scraped against the building's roof, creating a trail of blood behind him.

Legs and arms pulled together into a fetal position when pain burned through his body. Ichigo's eyes squeezed shut and his jaw clenched tightly as he chocked on his stolen blood. He didn't want to open his eyes, didn't want to see the world grow black and gray again. His fingers twitched when he tried to get up blindly, his mind screaming at him to get away form the puddle of his own blood. His arms and hands almost slipped in the wet, thick substance when he pushed himself up on all four. His arms trembled, his legs wobbled as blood rushed out of his system from unhealed wounds, his healing skill not fast enough to prevent his body from loosing the life sustaining substance.

'Get up. Get up, _get up_!' He screamed at himself, a determined frown etching into his forehead when he moved up on bony legs. A rush of victory swept through him as he stood just barely on his feet, leaning slightly with a tight grip on Zangetsu.

'_Now get out of-'_

"Aaah!" A foot collided with Ichigo's back before he had the time to even react on what his hollow was telling him. His body hurled forward and his head collided with the wall in front of him with such force, that a crack appeared over the bone mask, dark spirit energy oozing out of it like a broken pipe.

Ichigo screamed, his eyes narrowing with intense pain and anger, his body pumping with new found hate as he swung himself around, cleaver ready to slice. His arm moved faster than he could see as he felt his hollow fuel him and his energy flared, black spirit-energy pulsing out of every pore.

The weapon hit its target, sending a head flying to leave a limp body behind. A snarl was heard from behind the mask and Ichigo crawled over to the beheaded body, thin fingers reaching for it as if it was the answer to all the mysteries in the world.

Ichigo's spirit-energy leaking mask met with spirit-energy that looked liked liquid gold to Ichigo's eyes. His tongue darted out and quickly set to work, sucking harshly at the wound he had created.

Yellow eyes gleamed as his hole wanted to slam shut in his chest again, to erase all memories of pain until it was opened again. But as the world disappeared around him and he couldn't focus on anything else but the substance in his mouth, he didn't notice the horde of shinigami that quickly approached. Not until they were close enough to touch him did he notice and his body flew back with a scream, skidding along the roofs surface from the force of a foot that had landed square on his temple, making him temporary blind.

Ichigo jumped up from the ground, feet first, cleaver swinging madly around him and spirit energy flaring dangerously again. He could hear screaming voices and he scrammed; knowing without seeing that they were all upon him, as he threw himself aimlessly off what he guessed was a ledge. In the middle of the air, he flash stepped away, running on pure instinct and memory of how things looked of a place he had unfortunately never seen. As expected just after a couple of seconds he collided with a solid object.

But even as his forehead and body seared with pain he had managed to get away. Far enough for the horde of shinigami to fall behind and he quickly masked the energy he had lost control over with the help of inner hollow, so they could no longer track him.

He was out of breath, in pain and yet the rush of pleasure lingered along with the burning feeling for more. It was driving him mad. It was so hard to focus on any of them, and all of them mixed up made it all too confusing. Ichigo rubbed his eyes furiously as tears fell from them, but it only increased the burning pain in his temple.

Ichigo wanted to scream, stomp and tear things that wouldn't fight back apart, the confused urges that raged within mixing into anger and hate when he felt the enemy once again approach. Why would they never stop…? Was his death worth so much, so important…?

The boy screamed and swung his cleaver again, panic starting to mingle into his burst of rage. His eye sight was returning in blurry dots, but much too slowly and he couldn't see the incoming blade.

It met with his wrist, pushed into his flesh and cleaved his bone. Blood sprayed out of his arm and his hand hung limply in only strings of flesh and bone. Ichigo roared and it escalated into a monsters harsh howl. Pain scorched through his body and he almost dropped his cleaver. He clenched his remaining hand around it, not wanting to drop his only defense.

All muscles strained in pain, as he twisted his body, pushed his limp hand close to his body, all while trying his best to avoid getting sliced worse.

But it wasn't easy with almost all of the shinigami trying to attack him at once. Steel went in and out of his body repeatedly before Ichigo could steady himself enough with sheer willpower to flash-step madly into the black clothed men.

Some swords went deeper into his soft body; some went out as he violently slammed himself into everything. All to make the circle around him shatter to create the little space he needed to get away appear.

Once he saw it he felt his hollow fuel his body once more, reading his intention and his spirit-energy grew thick once more and he let it pour out of his bleeding body; so thick it made all the shinigami slow down enough get away.

As if in slow-motion when he saw the small gap he had been looking for, he threw himself madly at it, forcing himself to flash-step again. It hurt, a lot, as he moved away from the steel in his flesh, the motion causing most of the wounds to grow larger. Blood poured out of the holes, some of it out of his mouth, the taste of old, dead blood repulsive.

As soon as the boy had landed on solid ground he started running again, but quickly forced another flash-step, even when his body screamed in pain as he did it, the power surge it brought with it harsh on his frail body.

Ichigo feared for the worst as he soared over the ground faster than the naked eye could see. His body wasn't healing anymore and he saw black dots in front of his eyes. His leg almost buckled beneath him and his hand still hung in thin threads on his arm, ready to fall off at any second.

That feeling made panic etch its way into his mind and hunger was crawling over his mind again. He had lost too much blood in his stupid decision to starting eating on his enemy in the middle of a battle. He cursed himself, loathed his being for falling for primal instincts so easily. He feared it would lead to his own death.

'_Don't be stupid, Ichigo!'_ The voice of his inner demon that he had become so much like suddenly boomed, blocking out all other sounds.

'Hollow!' He spluttered out.

'_Need some help, ne?'_

"N-no!" Ichigo stammered his ever present reluctance to ask for help still there. He was answered with laughter.

'_Hahah! I knew the King wouldn't bow so quickly!'_

Ichigo kept on running, the feeling of shinigami moving in his direction clear in his mind, unlike everything else. But as he jumped up to run on the top of a roof, the large movements he had to do to jump so high was enough to make the arm that was almost cut away sway dangerously on the thin flesh it hang on to. Ichigo screamed as his left hand left his body, the soft thud of it as it landed on the ground below echoing in his ears. His eyes stared at the lost limp as he came to a stop a few meters away it, due to his high speed. He did not believe his eyes; even when the pain told him how very real it was.

'_No biggie, partner, it's just a hand.'_ Shirosaki's voice chimed.

His hand had fallen off.

"No bigge!" Ichigo roared, panic filling his body. "Are you insane!"

'_It will heal, stupid.'_ The hollow sneered, as if he was telling the simplest of things. _'Why don't you focus on getting out off the mess your in, like you use to, instead?'_

"I am! Can't you see I'm running!"

'_Tch! Even after running for, hell I don't know for how long, you still haven't figured it won't help?'_ Shirosaki spat.

"The what the hell am I supposed to do!" Ichigo asked, as he jumped off the ledge of a roof, the shinigami mob right behind him now, he could feel their swords split his clothes, missing his skin by mere millimeters. He was slowing down fast, the blood that fueled his body almost gone.

'_Still so narrow minded?'_ The hollow sighed. _'Where is the place where there is no life, no water, no fresh souls, only monsters and a constant moon that makes sand white in its reflecting light?'_

Ichigo couldn't think, the riddle not making any sense for him at all, he was too busy evading swords and running through the maze of houses.

'_Hueco Mundo! Hueco Mundo you idiot! How thick can you get! Don't you think I know you thought about going there, but you've been too scared to try? Well, its time you stop being a coward and go somewhere where there are No. Damn. Shinigami!'_

"How?" The boy roared at his inner demon as he counter attacked the enemy with spirit-energy loaded pulses, Getsuga's, that he shot away from his heavy weapon. It held the enemy at bay easily, but with every Getsuga he fired he caused himself to loose more blood and the thin layer of energy he tried to keep around himself to lessen his body's intense bleeding falter.

He had been stabbed through his left leg now and was limping severely. He was starting to receive more damage than he was dealing, but he wouldn't let himself budge, he was going to fight to the very end.

'_You open the portal.'_

"What damn portal!"

'_Stop playing so fuckin' stupid!'_ His inner demon roared, pissed at his inferior King and before Ichigo got the chance to do anything more than stumble, he felt the arm with his hand missing twitch and his body suddenly burst with unexpected power. His body vanished in a forceful rush of black before he reappeared far away from the men hunting him.

"What are you doin'!" Ichigo questioned furiously, but the hint of being relieved was still there, meshed together with the anger and fight.

'_Open the Gargantuan, Ichigo!'_

Ichigo was bewildered; he had absolutely no clue on how to do what he was told. He stood lamely, looking at nothing until he started to focus furiously on Hueco Mundo, but nothing happened and he started to run again, afraid to stand still.

He scurried away to hide behind a large container, mind still set on the desert he knew existed on another level of the universe. Yet again nothing happened, not that Ichigo had expected it to. He waved his cleaver around madly, screaming for the gate to open for him. But no matter what he did, even if he started to let some of his spirit-energy slip did anything happen.

Ichigo started to become afraid and again he furiously slashed the air with his cleaver, eyes wide in desperation to escape. The men hunting him were quickly drawing nearer.

"Open you fucking shit! Open!" Ichigo screeched with a shrill voice.

'_This is how you open the Gargantuan!' _The voice of Ichigo's hollow roared, more than angry at his king's dreadful attempts at opening said portal.

Ichigo felt his arm move in front of him, where it glowed darkly, hollow energy engulfing it and he could swear he had felt his own hand change shape. He wanted to recoil, pull his hand back to his sword or just somewhere else; anywhere, but it wouldn't budge.

Images of white sand and a cold moon flashed before his eyes.

A thin almost invisible line appeared in front of his hand, a buzzing sound rang in his ears and the line exploded into a black gaping hole, tearing the air and space into threads. Strong hot winds blew through his hair and the hole stretched and ate itself wider. The black portal hung before him, waiting with warm winds blowing from it as if it was a breathing mouth for its summoner to go through its fangs.

Ichigo threw himself into its mouth, heading for the end of the world.

**End of chapter**


	11. White Sand

**Chapter 11: White Sand**

Bloody and exhausted the body of Ichigo Kurosaki fell through fog and past rocky cliffs. His cleaver slipped out of his hand as he fell and twisted in cool air for what felt like forever before hitting cold sand too fast; his shoulder dislocating on impact. He quickly fainted at the new fresh pain, his limp body tumbling down sand dunes like a large ragdoll.

Hours later he awakened with a cold moon illuminating his pale, blood smeared skin and mask-less face. Groaning loudly and rolling over on his side, Ichigo curled his legs together. He wailed as he cradled his hurting shoulder and felt burning pain ache from every part of his battle wounded body. He heaved a painful sigh before opening exhausted eyes and groped after his trusted weapon.

Instantly he tried to locate his main defence, but failed. He looked around himself, eyes darting back and forth and he fumbled in the sand stupidly, as if his cleaver had been buried beneath it.

"Z-za… Zangetsu!" He burst out, hints of desperation in his voice. His trusted cleaver was gone. _Gone._

He rose from the sand, his entire being protesting at his actions, but his stubborn mind worked against it. He refused to lie back down. He took a few shaky steps forwards, sand blowing around him as his feet sank deep into the sand. His breath picked up and for a second he thought he was going to fall through the sand like it was water, but soon it stopped moving beneath his weight. He took another couple of more steps forward carefully, each times having to stop so he wouldn't sink.

The boy held his functional arm out stretched, trying not to fall back into the sea of small stones as he heaved himself over large dunes of sands. Once he was, after a lot of slow-motion struggle, on top of a bigger one, he looked up just too see hundreds more piles of sand, rippling the surface like a white frozen sea. The wind howled like wolfs at the moon and clawed at his clothes harshly from where he now stood; almost ripping the torn rags open even further. He scanned for something that could be something other than sand. He saw nothing and clenched his hand into a fist. Where had his cleaver gone! He was already getting desperate, fear eating at his soul.

Suddenly Ichigo gasped as he spotted something glistering and in a rush of relief he ran the fastest he could through the sand to what he knew was his sword. He ran and almost fell several times, his feet and legs sinking deeper with each step and his hand grazed the sands surface. He pushed through it and as he got closer, losing sight of his weapon several times, he knew he would soon be safe. He had seen it, right…? He began to doubt.

But as he thought he had finally reached his destination and a faint sign of a smile tugged at his dry lips, he stumbled and fell, rolled down a large dune with a yelp and no control at all. He slid to a stop at its base only to open his eyes again to see what he had thought had been Zangetsu. A tree.

Ichigo growled in frustration and slammed his fist into the grey, dead looking plant. But it caused next to no damaged, as no energy remained in him and he was getting dizzy, his body acing with the need to rest.

"Zangetsu!" He cried out again from where he laid, his hoarse voice hardly carrying his call very far. He felt weaker than ever, and alone. The weapon had been his only other object that he had had as company in solid form. The loss of it rendered him so utterly defenceless. He was at loss, he wanted his cleaver _now_! He wailed loudly to the cold moon that hung over him, like a white blind eye that saw nothing, not even his suffering.

He rested heavily in the sand, which still seemed to want to swallow him up and away from the cool air around him. It snaked around his fingers and legs as if it was alive. He had to wriggle free from its grip every now and then, even if that little effort was draining him further.

The teen's breath was becoming shallow and his mind woozy. He tried to get up, but quickly slumped against the ground again. His vision was starting to blur, the moon becoming a white scribble in the sky. Dust in the air quickly stuck to his skin, his eyelashes and lips, moving into his mouth making it even harder to breath than before. Ichigo coughed loudly, his mind tired but still desperately longing for his weapon. But soon even those thoughts slipped from his mind as it was engulfed into darkness.

Once again the boy woke up with a start, but this time not on his own. Someone was kicking him in the side, hard. Ichigo forced weary eyes open and his blurry vision met with something tall and moving.

Ichigo gasped, sand filling his mouth and he wrenched his body free from layers it that covered his body before struggling to his unsteady feet, the world spinning around him. Hissing at the blurry mass was all he could do as he had nothing else to defence himself with expect for one hand. He could smell it was another hollow creature in front of him, a foul stench filling his nose.

"Hey! Hey! No need to get aggressive, shinigami!" The tall figure said, sounding most amused. "But that's not really what you are, are you?"

Ichigo rubbed his eyes with his good hand and tried to keep himself standing while his vision cleared. It was hard, but once he got a steady stance on the ground he quickly recognised the figure as the 6th Espada Grimmjow. He had fought against the man once before in his home town. Ichigo backed off, but fell into cold sand again when he did. His arm and shoulder howled in pain and he couldn't suppress a scream.

"What's wrong, shinigami?" Grimmjow smirked at Ichigo and pushed him over into the sand after the boy had struggled to his feet again. Ichigo cursed and growled. Grimmjow laughed.

"Don't call us shinigami!" Ichigo hissed in anger as he twitched in the rough desert sand.

Grimmjow crocked an eyebrow at the comment. "Why not, brat?"

"You said it yourself, we're not a shinigami."

"What's with the 'we'? I only see one person here." Grimmjow asked, looking around carefully, almost anxious that he had marched into an ambush.

Ichigo growled and struggled back to his feet, mumbling. "You would never understand…"

"Try me."

Ichigo fell silent; breathing harshly through his nose, eyes narrowing as more sweat prickled down his forehead.

"Heh." Grimmjow laughed with a cruel smile as he turned around. "Come with me, brat." He ordered as he figured it would be a good move to bring the boy to his master Aizen, since he hadn't been on the best of terms with the man. He also knew that Aizen had a certain interest in the boy, now he could easily see why. "Trust me."

First off, he knew the kid had a hollow mask, second, now it seemed like he thought of himself as two people, third, he seemed to have developed a hate toward shinigami and forth, let alone he now he had a gaping hole of a hollow in his chest. Interesting indeed.

"Why would we? Hell, why even talk to you at all, arrancar? You're the enemy just like everyone else," Ichigo's frown hardened and he clenched his only hand into a fist. "I was cut down by the people I trusted and cared about. Not only once but for weeks, month, hell I don't even know for how long! You can't expect me to come with you, or even trust you enough to do so, fuck, I can't even believe I'm hearing you saying it! I will never trust you or anyone for that matter! I've run out of trust." He turned around shakily, careful not say 'we' this time even as he spoke for his inner hollow as well.

He faced away from Grimmjow, angry at the human-like monster before him, not wanting to say another thing to it. He was still at the edge of fainting and he touched his still not yet fully grown out hand and grimaced, it didn't hurt, but his shoulder burned as it was still dislocated.

"We don't need your help." He spit at the arrancar and started waking away from the blue haired man, anger boiling beneath his skin.

Ichigo sank deep into sand as he did, slipped and cursed loudly when he noticed that the arrancar was easily following him. But he kept going, pushing himself through the white sand that seemed to want to devour him whole.

He didn't know for how long he struggled until he collapsed in the sand again. It was hard to breathe, sand kept getting into his lungs through his hole and he kept coughing it up until he forced himself to stand. He was getting dizzy and woozy again, fainting creeping closer.

"Not doin' too good, are yah?" Grimmjow taunted, grinning at the orange haired boy.

"Don't follow us…!" Ichigo spat back angrily, but it didn't hold as much force as he had liked. It sounded more like a pathetic squeak to him.

"I'll keep following you until you come with me or faint, which with the looks of it is going to be soon. Then I'll just carry you."

"Shut up!" Ichigo growled and flash-stepped away, the effort so tiring and he instantly fell once he landed. He gagged on sand, felt it stick to his open wounds and doing its best to creep into his eyes.

"You're not getting away that easily!"

"Shit…" Ichigo cursed under his raged breath as Grimmjow easily followed him with an echo-movement, the hollow version of the flash-step. But the stubborn boy pushed on, determined to get away even if it meant to crawl. Why couldn't he be allowed just a moment of solitude and rest?

Ichigo dragged his fragile arms and legs over the vast sand that never stopped to try and suck him down. He pulled and pushed. He closed his darkly rimmed eyes and kept going, his body sinking deeper and deeper.

"Leave us alone!" He shouted as his temper flared when he Grimmjow had easily walked up next to his slowly moving form. He pushed himself up again on unsteady legs and swung around with a fist that collided with Grimmjow's mask covered jaw.

They both grunted, Ichigo from the effort and cutting his fingers on the sharp teeth and Grimmjow from the unexpected attack, even if it hadn't been painful since there was on power in the blow. But soon enough the teal haired arrancar clenched his own hand into a fist and swung it toward the shorter orange haired one.

Even in his beaten state Ichigo managed to dodge the onslaught by mere centimetres and he quickly got up from the ground to counter attack with another angled fist directed toward Grimmjow's abdomen. Everything was moving unsteadily and becoming fuzzy to his eyes, but he did his best not to loose the battle against unconsciousness.

His arm was easily stopped right before it hit its target, Grimmjow obviously much more alert and stronger. He leaned closer to Ichigo's face when the boy struggled to release his only functional arm from the others tight grip. Grimmjow had no trouble holding the kid down, the boy weaker than ever.

"I told you I ain't leaving until you come with me, brat." Grimmjow whispered, his voice threatening.

"Well, it ain't happening, arrancar." Ichigo growled back weakly but determent, mimicking the Espada's words.

"Tsch… Let's see about that!" Grimmjow suddenly yelled, a grin spreading over his face and before Ichigo had the chance to do more than let his eyes widen, was his battle worn body thrown with immense strength across and through sand.

Ichigo's half strangled scream echoed over the sand and his shoulder crunched loudly as he landed on it. Heaps of sand filled his lungs and he desperately shoved his hand into them, groping after the small rocks, anything to be able to breath. He tried to get up, sand spraying out his of mouth as he coughed. But his new enemy was already upon him and Grimmjow's boot soon pushed into the empty space that wasn't supposed to be between Ichigo's arm and body. Ichigo quickly collapsed onto the sand again and saw spots flash in front of his eyes.

"Get off!" Ichigo gasped through strangled coughs, muffled screams and hints of a growl escaped him before Grimmjow's hand pushed his face beneath the sand.

The arrancar put more weight on his foot he had placed on the orange haired boy's shoulder and landed his knee in the space between the shoulder blade and spine of the other arm. He quickly noticed Ichigo's half missing hand and grabbed it, crushing the tender skin and bone beneath his own strong one.

The muffled scream from the weakly struggling boy increased, his body squirming furiously in a try to get way and sand sprayed violently from his chest, he was draining every drop of energy he had left, desperate to get away.

"You're almost out of strength, brat. You were half dead when you came here, bleeding out your last drops of blood… I'm surprised you're still sane enough to talk instead of raging like a beast. Because that's what you are beneath that beaten up skin of yours isn't it? Just waiting to bust out at any second… I can clearly smell it."

Grimmjow felt the boy stop struggling as he had listened, but at the mention of the beast within the twitches returned to its former strength.

"Shh, Shh… I'm not going to tell a soul. I just know it because evil knows evil. It's as easy as that." The Espada purred in the others ear before he put even more weight onto his foot and knee. He pulled Ichigo's face out of the sand.

Ichigo screamed and spat sand at him. "I told you to get off!" His face was almost instantly slammed back into the sand.

"Come with me and I will show you how to tame that beast of hunger without plunging a sword through your real face!" Grimmjow growled in Ichigo's almost sand filled ear, hinting the last part at Ichigo's bone mask that he knew lucked somewhere beneath the boy's skin. The struggling abruptly stopped and a few seconds later the boy's head was pulled out of the sand again.

"What does the beast say…?" Grimmjow asked. "Or should I just knock you out like I said I would?"

Ichigo didn't answer, only his eyebrows dug deeper into his forehead and his eyes moved frantically back and forth in their sockets, as if his mind was racing, unsure on what to believe, say and do.

"It's time to decide, boy!" Grimmjow snarled, not liking to wait and slammed Ichigo's face beneath white sand again, deeper than before. He put all his body weight on Ichigo's shoulder and it too started to disappear in sand.

It hurt. It burned as all nerves in Ichigo's body screamed that his shoulder was receiving damage. Ichigo kicked furiously behind him, but the arrancar was sitting too far up on his back for him to reach and his kicks held little strength, spots appearing in front of his closed eyes, his mind still swaying.

Grimmjow noticed lack of furiously moving limps and wrenched the boy up by his hair. He slammed his own hand on the boy's back to help him get the sand out of his lungs, so he could talk. Soon however his hands snaked their way around the boy's thin neck instead.

"Well!" Grimmjow hissed again, his patience running short.

"No…!" Ichigo tried to pull free, kicked at the Espada with little strength, tried to pry away the fingers around his throat. "Let… go…!"

"I don't think so." Grimmjow growled back. "Not until you come with me." His fingers gripped tighter around the flesh, deeper into it. Ichigo struggled harder, kicked more furiously, he wasn't suffocating, but it hurt nonetheless and it was so very hard and strange to breath right into his open lungs.

"I… won't go without… gah… Z-Zangetsu…!" Ichigo stuttered through sharp breaths.

"So that's what you where screaming! I could hear you for miles! Who's that? Your mother?"

Ichigo growled, his mood too pesky and his body much too tried for cruel jokes. "No, my soul cutter, idiot…!"

"Haha, you dropped it!" Grimmjow's grin returned. "Fuck, you really are clumsy, aren't you!"

"S-Shut up!" Ichigo quickly snapped back, his nails pushing into the others fingers, trying his best to get away as more and more spots joined the others in his view.

"You really want me to knock you out don't you?" Grimmjow's snarled, fingers only tightening around the boy's tender neck. "You _will_ come with me!" He suddenly shouted; his voice much more angry and demanding than before.

Grimmjow's fingers clenched so hard that skin stood out between his fingers, turning the skin blue and the arrancar shoved his other hand right into the boy's lungs, fingering at the tender insides. Ichigo's eyes widened in bewilderment and he couldn't breath. He tried to scream but no sound managed to escape him.

"F-fine…!" Ichigo gasped through his compressed neck as the clawing hand inside of him drew back. But when he could see Grimmjow smirk in the corner of his eye, he quickly landed a hard kick in the taller mans gut, making Grimmjow release him. When Ichigo landed he swung his leg again, kicking the man on the ground across the face.

"Don't strangle us!" Ichigo growled through desperate gasps for air and he wiped his lip, where he had accidentally bitten himself. It stung with sand before his legs collapsed under him. His breath was hard and ragged, the burst of power draining him even further. His lungs burned and he cradled his chest the best he could, bending forward with his forehead in the sand. He tried to still his breath, as breathing hurt now, while slowly rising to move away from the arrancar, even if he hardly could keep his eyes open.

Grimmjow only laughed on the ground while grabbing his jaw and massaging it slightly before he got up again and easily marched up next to Ichigo, who hadn't managed to get far.

"And who are you to make threats seeing you where the one drowning in sand just a few moments ago…?" Grimmjow asked while leaning down toward Ichigo.

"The one turning into a beast." Ichigo grunted, his voice rough now and liquid bone was starting to make its way out of his eyes, but he swallowed whatever came up his throat. He wiped the bone away from his face in a try to hide it coming. He was loosing it again; the consequences of lack of blood starting too show and the spots never faded from his gaze.

"Well, well…!" Grimmjow burst out laughing, his pissed mood gone at the sight. He moved around in the sand, to get a better look at the face that Ichigo was obviously trying to hide. "Haha, don't be afraid, it's not like you need to hide. It's like I said, evil knows evil."

"We're not evil." Ichigo mumbled. Grimmjow only laughing harder at the answer, knowing full well what it meant to survive with nothing but a shell of a soul left.

"Whatever you say, whatever you say…" He mumbled, more to himself than the boy as he slowly started heading to the left, feeling the boy's gaze upon him.

"Where you goin'…?" Ichigo growled weakly. He didn't like the idea of being left alone in an endless desert anymore, not now when he was loosing his sanity once again and with no fresh soul in sight. Grimmjow was losing colours in a disturbing way.

"I told you to come with me didn't I? Or did I hit your head too hard…?"

Ichigo growled again at the answer but started to follow the Espada after forcing himself up with energy he didn't have. He followed the best he could over the dunes, his greying world getting less sharp as time went on.

He was having a hard time breathing and focusing, the liquid form of his mask that he kept swallowing forming sick lumps in his stomach. When he had spit it onto the sand, it had only moved after him like a demented slug before swivelling into nothing. The teen's tired legs kept sinking deeper into the sucking sand with each step and sand clung to his sweaty skin, make it itch terribly. Plus, he was loosing sight of Grimmjow fast. For some reason the arrancar didn't sink into the sand at all.

"Your arm kind of sucks there." Grimmjow called after he suddenly appeared on top of a large dune after Ichigo had lost sight of him again. He eyed the teen's shoulder. Ichigo's arm was pushed upwards now; the shoulder wasn't connected with the rest of the body at all anymore, thanks to Grimmjow foot. Ichigo grabbed at it carefully.

He only glared at the man and growled in anger, white matter flying from his mouth as he did and he grimaced in pain. The mask had already hardened over his left eye.

The 6th Espada slid down the dune he was upon; sand blowing up behind him. He grabbed Ichigo's injured arm, but Ichigo tried to shove Grimmjow's hand away with his good one. "Don't touch it!"

Grimmjow ignored the objection and told him to keep still before grabbing the injured arm again. He squeezed it slightly before twisting and pulling down hard. A loud sickening snap and a bone chilling scream was heard.

"What are you doing!" Ichigo screeched, his voice changing more and more into rough growls as time passed. He didn't notice that himself, but Grimmjow did.

"I'm not a doctor!" Grimmjow snarled back. Ichigo's arm was still dislocated, but now downwards. It hung limply within the scarred and bruised skin.

"You don't say! Shit!" Ichigo complained loudly to the sand, knowing the arrancar wouldn't listen. He closed his eyes and sucked in air harshly through clenched teeth. It hurt badly, more than before as the pain and feeling had started to dull off in that area.

"Don't complain, brat." Grimmjow shot back, grabbed Ichigo's remaining good arm and pulled it after him. "Let's go already before you faint or go insane."

"Ahh!" Ichigo yelped as he was dragged through the sand roughly. He kept loosing focus but was slapped back into the present by a rough hand. He also kept collapsing from exhaustion and sinking deeper into the sand as well as they went on, but Grimmjow pulling him back out and complaining every time.

"Learn to walk idiot!" Grimmjow growled through gritted teeth at the panting teen.

"I'm trying!" Ichigo gasped back almost soundlessly and struggle on. He tried his best to keep up with the pace of the violent arrancar, tried not to fall to the defeat that crept ever closer. It rose like waves against the sore and sent painful throbs through his sore skull, making him groan loudly with each gasp for breath.

Ichigo couldn't stop his white bone mask from creeping across his face anymore and a nauseated feeling swayed over him as it hardened over his entire face. Everything around him lost the little colour it still had and with a gigantic throb in his chest a roar bellowed from the core of his soul as everything inside him was replaced with a much stronger cold and tight feeling than it held before. In a powerful jerk of desperation Ichigo pulled the closest thing to something living in the surrounding area with bony spider-like fingers close; Grimmjow.

The arrancar was the one to yelp in surprise this time, the roar startling him more than the tug and teeth sinking into his muscled arm. He turned to face the boy that was trying to devour his body; the mask covering Ichigo's demented features completely.

Grimmjow pulled back, but the boy was attached to his arm like a leech and he could feel the slick tongue lick at his flesh. The boy had been so close to fainting, where the hell had all this power come from?

But he had no time to wonder as black nails tore his skin, exposing his meat as Ichigo's dry mouth covered his entire hand and kept going deeper. Grimmjow began to fret.

He tried to swing around, to throw the boy with him in the momentum, but Ichigo's body had turned to iron and would not budge, he only kept pulling the arm further down into the depths of his soul, looking for the blood that would resurrect his starving body. His eyes narrowed as his body shook with aspiration for something that never seemed to come. Ichigo growled, a roar almost escaping him again.

Grimmjow kept pulling, but as before nothing happened and he swung a fist into the head of the wild teen. He only got a growl and deeper sinking teeth and nails in return. As in no better idea on what do, Grimmjow shoved his finger deep into the closest and easiest weak spot he could reach; Ichigo's eyes.

The teen's mouth flew open as he screeched, his twisted voice echoing over the desert. Grimmjow took no chances and wrenched his arm out as soon as he could and round-house kicked Ichigo across the head. Ichigo face met with the sand instantly, the small white rocks scraping against his mask, knocking him out cold instantly.

"This is as far as you go conscious!" Grimmjow spat with a growl at the boy before stomping his foot into Ichigo's solar plexus, just to be sure the boy was down. Grimmjow groaned and grabbed at his own arm, the lower muscles torn to shreds, his fingers barely responding to his movements.

The arrancar moved the hair out of his eyes along with sand before he tore off a piece of garment from the boys already badly tattered clothes to wrapped it around his own arm, keeping the flesh together before he heaved the scrawny body of the teen over his shoulder.

The teal haired man cursed, he was not the one to fall for such an easy attack, such clumsy, blind instincts… His guard at been too low, he had underestimated the boy by far he knew it. The sudden steel strength in those muscles showed that there was more than just bone beneath the skin. He snarled and carried the weight of the body across the frozen sea of white sand.

Eventually the white palace Las Notches towered behind a large dune. The dome it formed was massive, the towers at its side seemed to never end and its stone and white marble surface gleamed in the ever present moonlight, speaking of nothing but power.

**End of Chapter**


	12. Little Secret

**Chapter 12: Little Secret**

Two feet marched over marble floors and two were dragged soundlessly. Boots clicked against it as Grimmjow hurried down white halls. He pulled the thin body of Ichigo far into the palace he knew like the back of his hand, deeper and deeper into its many maze like halls, down stairs and narrow corridors until he found himself in a dimly lit area.

There he stopped, looking for the place where he knew keys were kept. Soon finding it, he took the chain that was full of hundreds of steel keys; glistering in the little light there was. He frowned as he looked for the correct key, the one belonging to the cell furthers down the hall. Once finding it, he hoisted the limp body once again over his strong shoulder.

The hall was long here as well, like all the places, as if the designer had been most inspired by the endless white desert outside. The holding cells the Espada passed were all empty and white as everything else, even the steel railings were white.

Once finally at the furthest cell, he loudly unlocked it and placed the shallow breathing boy on the cold ground. He moved a small steel chain that was attached to the wall around Ichigo's skinny ankle and locked him inside. Grimmjow wasn't going to take any risks with Ichigo, as he had seen the kid burst with power unexpectedly just moments before.

The arrancar couldn't help but smile to himself at his find, something he knew his master would be most pleased about. As he headed away from the boy, dragging his feet along the halls once again, he walked past a skinny, pink haired man, an Espada ranked arrancar like himself, but number 8.

"Hey Szayel," He spat at the man, not really liking the other. Szayel turned around slowly, his white upper uniform folding with every move.

"What may you want, Grimmjow?" His smooth voice asked; his expression indifferent.

"I have something that's injured…" Grimmjow mused, knowing how to get the man's full attention. True to that, Szayel was quickly near to listen.

"Is that so? Where can I see this… _specimen_?" He asked, careful not to talk too loudly, seeing on the other male that it was to be kept secret.

"I will only tell you that if you won't kill it, it has to be kept alive."

"I can yield to that I suppose." Szayel answered, while watching the teal haired man cross his arms.

"You're only going to heal the wounds, not fiddle with organs or anything and no feeding."

"Yes, yes I understand; where is it?" Szayel pressed, eyes shining with interest.

"It's in the holding cell furthers in the back, to the left."

Szayel nodded quickly and turned around; not bothering to say anything more as he could hardly wait to see what Grimmjow had found, since the 6th Espada was not a man full of secrets. What he had found to be this quiet about had to be something worth seeing. But before he had the chance to move away, Grimmjow grabbed his arm, forcing Szayel to look at him again.

"No telling anyone, is that clear? Or I will make sure you're very miserable." He hissed.

"Of course Grimmjow, you _can_ trust me." Szayel answered with a sly smile, prying the others fingers away from his arm and turned around once again and heard the other walk away as well, feet dragging along the ground once more.

Szayel called his subordinates or Fracción as they were also called, low ranked arrancar of all sizes. They scattered eagerly around him and he called the names of the once he wanted, told them to get his kit of necessary materials and items.

He himself hurried down the long halls and stairs, quickly arriving at the furthest holding cell of them all. There he peered through the bars of the cell and darkness, seeing a body carelessly lying limp on the ground.

Szayel bent down over the body; dragging it into a straighter pose with delicate fingers. He looked over the pale and wan body carefully, only briefly lifting a piece of clothing to inspect the condition of the young male.

His gaze lingered long at the mask and he lightly touched it, feeling that it was defiantly made of hard bone and spirit particles, his fingers trailing along the lower jaws stripes, gaining no reaction for the owner of the mask whatsoever.

But as he heard his servants approach, he got up and ordered his subordinates to carefully remove the clothes from the body and watched as the remaining cloth of the black upper wear where cut away while putting on a pair of white tight surgical gloves. Once the body was placed on a thin plastic stretcher and lit by bright lamps, Szayel squatted down and took a closer look at the body Grimmjow had retrieved from the white desert.

Before doing anything drastic, he slid a needle under the pale skin with anaesthetic to knock the boy out further than he already was, to avoid having him wake up in the middle of the examination.

Szayel had already noticed the dislocated shoulder; it stood out too well on the scrawny body not to have been detected, even with untrained eyes. He went over it more carefully now with the bright light, pushing his fingers here and there into the soft flesh. He clearly felt the bone pipes under the skin, nothing was crushed or broken and he easily snapped the shoulder together again with little strength.

He held up the arm, feeling on it further down over the dirty skin to see if was broken elsewhere, which it wasn't. Once he got to the hand it became more interesting; the hand had obviously been removed not too long ago. The new skin was clean and almost unharmed, except for small blue bruises from other fingers that had clenched over it. The fingers were long and thin, but almost a natural length, even if the skeleton could still be seen beneath half transparent skin. But Szayel left it as it was, it was healing fine on its own, no need to do anything about it.

Carrying on, he trailed his index finger along large, thick scars, several of them being over the boy's abdomen, the largest one travelling from the navel to the ribcage. Szayel was surprised that the boy could have healed such a massive wound.

Rough scars formed trails of nails that ran long over the chest muscle, at the place where the boy's heart had once been. Szayel paid little attention to the hole in the boy's chest; it was an average hollow hole, nothing interesting.

The boy's body was emaciated and worn out; ribs all too visible and hip bones were poking out from the sides like rounded horns. Even the skeleton of the elbows and collarbones was clearly visible.

Moving on, he took a better look at the skin itself, cleaning it with a wad of alcohol-filled cotton attached to a peang. He quickly swabbed the skin, noticing several dark places, uneven bumps from swollen areas. Rashes covered most parts of the legs. Other places of the skin were half transparent and red as well, only a thin layer of skin covering what once had been an open wound.

Some were still open and Szayel placed an operating mask over his face, that one of his Fracción handed him, before he carefully started stitching the flesh and skin together. Once it was firmly held together, he could see how the skin tried it's best to heal ever so slowly, even if there was nothing to use, hardly any fat or blood to replace the hole with.

Before finishing up he nicked a pair of hairs from the head of the boy. There were several patches of greying hair and some even missing hair all together, possible from stress as well.

He quickly looked over the body again, wondering if the boy would be consumed with madness when he woke; since the kid most probably did not know how to control the raging hunger for life. Szayel frowned and decided to inject the boy with a stimulating, brightly coloured drug too keep the boy lucid for at least a little while longer.

The Espada rose from the floor, motioning to his subordinates to bandage the arm and frail hand carefully as he removed the gloves from his hands before locking the cell once more and leaving the sleeping kid alone.

As he headed back up the long stairs and through the east wing corridor, heading for the large dining hall that could easily fit more than a hundred arrancar at once, he noticed Grimmjow waiting for him.

Szayel nodded at the blue haired man before correcting his bone glasses - the remains of his once whole mask that lay neatly over the bridge of his nose.

"Where did you find him?" He asked carefully before Grimmjow could say anything, all while being careful not to make others come and listen.

"He was lying sprawled in the sand; north from the main entrance not very far from here, looked like he had been lying unconscious for quite some time, perhaps a day, maybe more. But he woke up pretty quickly when I kicked him. Didn't have much energy left but the little shit still put up a fight…" Grimmjow answered, not giving off any hint that the small struggle had actually hurt him, such shame he would never utter if he didn't have to. Nnoitra, the 5th Espada, would never let him hear the end of it.

"He kept referring himself as 'we' instead of 'I' as if he was two people a lot though, even if no one else was there." Grimmjow burst out as he remembered; his hand waving a bit loosely at the side of his head in circles, to encourage the meaning that the boy had gone wacky. "Must have gotten a pretty severe hit on the head."

"I see… really now?" Szayel answered with a sly smile while eyeing Grimmjow's poorly bandaged arm, but quickly continued on the main subject. "About the crazy part I have no clue, I kept him sedated while I exanimate him… must be something psychological…" The Espada tailed off, mumbling things under his breath.

"The boy was indeed pretty badly beaten up though, but he seems to be the healing type." Szayel suddenly said louder, catching the unease in the other.

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow at the pleased tone of the last part of Szayel's answer; he sure hadn't seen the boy as a healing type, as beaten up as the kid was when he had found him.

"Skilled regeneration based hollows are quiet rare, you know." Szayel stated matter-of-factly as he crossed his arms. "At least the ones that heals almost instantaneously. From my brief observation I'd say he's a very new born hollow. With the speed he seemed to nurse himself back to health with next to no blood, I must say I'm almost a little impressed. And new subjects are of course always a pleasure."

"Heh, no doubt about it…" Grimmjow half mumbled as he looked off in another direction, quickly straightening as his widening eyes met with the sight of his master, Aizen Sousuke. The man was walking down the hall, strong looking but still carrying a soft smile on his lips as he approached his men.

"What is _he_ doing here?" Grimmjow asked Szayel, his eyes narrowing, quickly ending their current conversation.

Szayel's usual smug expression was gone, replace with one that held none. Grimmjow couldn't help but to wonder what his Lord had done to the 8th Espada to keep him on the tight leach like he did with everyone. Probably beat him up to a pulp when no one else could see like he did to the rest, using his illusions that his sword, Kyouka Suigetsu, created that everyone seemed to be unable to escape from.

They both quickly mumbled "Sir." and stood in a tidy line with their back against the wall as the man passed, averting their eyes to the floor. They both exhaled a breath of relief when they were ignored. Grimmjow gave Szayel another look, silently asking the question of what the brown haired man was doing there. The 8th Espada only shrugged silently, not knowing more than that it was most rare for the man to visit his subordinates or eat in the same hall.

"What's the kid doing now?" Grimmjow quickly asked Szayel, just wanting to know what was going on at the moment, to know things where as safe as they could be when keeping important things away from others.

"Sleeping." Was the Espada's swiftly whispered reply.

They didn't continue the conversation any further, afraid that Aizen might have heard. The teal haired Espada grimaced, his lips drawing back into a snarl has he turned away from the pink haired man and walked past him, entering the dinning hall, fists clenched. The mere presence of their master made everyone nervous or angry. He flopped down at an empty table, the frown still strong on his forehead as he wondered if the little secret would be enough to make the ever strangling chains his master held on him loosen once he delivered it.

The once chattering dining hall had become almost completely silent except for some low murmur, every Espada down to the lowest ranked hollows had stopped doing anything else than silently eating when the shinigami had come. No one dared to really talk, everyone unsure if the constantly pleased looking man would be friendly today or not.

Everyone where squirming in their seats and bowing their heads has Aizen walked past tables and chairs, each person afraid that they would be brought away for some reason or another. The man however kept walking to the table where most of the Espada were seated. Grimmjow had the mans back turned to him, leering at Aizen as he himself rose from the table to get some food.

A quick breath of relief and an eased mumble could be heard once the man walked out the dining hall with the 4th Espada following, his most trusted member, Ulquiorra Schiffer. Grimmjow wondered what they were up to, but dismissed it as something boring, something out of his interests and focused on his food.

Ichigo himself woke up to a tick silence, as he did not sleep well for long. Soon the war of nightmares raged in his mind and he trashed and turned as visions plunged into his psyche, frightening his already terrified mind. Sweat clung to his body as his limbs moved as if he was fighting, fighting against the shackles that bound his feet, clattering loudly in the small.

The boy abruptly woke up with a start, yelping as he flung himself into a sitting position. He shook violently; the sweat pickling his skin and his body hurt as if he had been slamming into to a wall. Grunting, he stared at a white ceiling.

Through still frightened, foggy eyes he noticed that he was in a holding cell; thick bars were in front of him. The boy's frown deepened. He didn't recognise his surroundings at first, but soon remembered being knocked out by a certain Espada.

Ichigo sighed as his whole body felt numb. His throat was burning and an intense headache pounded on the inside of his skull. Reaching up to touch his face he felt his mask covering it, something that didn't surprise him this time and rubbed against it. The mask was his face as much as the flesh beneath it. He massaged his weary eyes, rubbed roughly into them, feeling a stinging sensation under his touch.

As he moved in a try at get his stiff limps a little more flexible, he noticed that his dislocated shoulder was back into place and heavily bandaged. Despite it he still felt the numb feeling radiating from his shoulder and he still couldn't feel his fingers, let alone anything of his hand. He grunted again as he pushed the awful though that his hand may never return to the back of his mind. The chain around his leg wasn't hard for him to notice either, the steel grinding into the flesh of his ankle.

His upper clothing was gone, lukewarm air playing and coiling around his exposed skin. At least he still had his torn pants. Bastards; taking away the little that remained of his clothes... Not that he cared if they represented something he tried to forget, something that hunted him like a deer during hunting season. He wanted his clothes, no matter what state they were in or just something to cover himself with, to feel a little more secure.

He clenched his hand into a fist, his eyes wearily scanning for some sort of way out of his prison. He spotted nothing, no worn piece of rock he could smash away with his fist, no rusty part of the fence. His face turned worried beneath the mask, which evil grin never faltered.

Ichigo gritted his teeth and yanked again and again at the chain that bound his leg, the strong steel not yielding in the slightest. Ichigo screamed in annoyance and defeat. How could such a small thing as a chain stop him? He had come here to be free, but only ended up chained to white walls.

**End of Chapter**


	13. Shackles that bind

**Chapter 13: Shackles that bind**

The chain still bound Ichigo's leg. No matter how many times Ichigo pulled at the steel or scraped his skin bleeding against its metal did it loosen. No matter how high he screamed did anyone come.

Ichigo was starting to wonder if he had been left to starve, to turn into a shell of what was once him. Curling into a ball in the darkest corner of the cell, cradling his bandaged arm; he heaved a sigh between dry lips.

His eyes lingered long on the flawless floor, wondering if he would ever leave it again before his brown orbs turned to look at the steel bars that kept him inside the small area. They didn't look very though, or thick. Nor did they look like they would break easily either.

Ichigo's frown hardened. Where had the freedom he had hoped for gone? Had it fled from him like a deer from the sound of rifles firing?

He wished it would come back to him as he curled together tighter, another sigh escaping him. He had become afraid to returning to sleep; afraid that the strange, frightening nightmares would return. So he kept himself awake, not daring to close his eyes for too long no matter how restless he became.

But it was getting harder and harder as hours, days, if that even existed here, went by. He was sure someone or something came and injected him with some sort of drug that kept him lucid, because the hunger he felt never reached any critical level, it kept gnawing in the dark corner of his mind, the tight feeling never really leaving, but never really being there clearly either. It made him want to scream.

Plus, faint blue makings from needles were slowly starting to appear on the lower side of his abdomen. It made sleeping even more scary, knowing that people did things too him while he slept. But even when he stayed awake until he felt like vomiting and his limbs shook, did he not notice anyone coming. To him he was abandoned with nothing but a chain around his sore ankle for company.

Finally after God knows for how long, did a white clad figure enter Ichigo's blankly staring gaze, he had smelled it coming, the repulsive smell of another hollow clogging his nose. It opened the steel bar door quietly, walking inside soundlessly. It squatted down next to him and before Ichigo knew it he felt two light pinpricks in his side. He quickly reached out with his hand and grasped the arm that was injecting him.

The owner of the hand was clearly startled at his touch, but Ichigo's grip was so weak that the white blurry figure removed his hand effortlessly and left the holding cell as quietly as it had come. Ichigo wanted to panic; now knowing he was being drugged but had too little strength to do anything about it. All he managed to do was to push himself further into the corner of his cell, in a pathetic attempt to merge with the surroundings. 

Hours later, Ichigo opened his eyes, startled that he had fallen asleep, yet happy that there had been no dreams terrorising his mind this time. He didn't feel like he had rested well, his mind still groggy and the hunger still ringing in his ears, silently screaming from its restraints. Groaning, he pushed himself off the floor, his arm almost collapsing underneath him.

He rubbed his eyes wearily but quickly stopped as he heard steps coming closer, these not loud either like the other once, but making enough sound for Ichigo to hear it. Soon the nauseating smell of the approaching hollow oozed all over.

No other than Grimmjow arrived, with a pair of heavy looking handcuffs and a pair of manacles in his large hands. He seemed to be holding some kind of broad collar as well. It was similar to the one Rukia wore when she was going to be executed, except this one was black. Ichigo didn't like it the least when everything was thrown into the cell, clattering loudly against the floor. He moved away from it the best he could, dragging his body back.

"Put these on." Grimmjow ordered and left again, his footsteps quickly fading.

Ichigo only stared at the items at first, more than surprised at the sudden appearance and disappearance of the Espada. He glared especially at the collar, he noticed, now that it was on the floor, that the inside of it had vicious eyes and mouths. It where mouths and eyes of hollows, just like Kenpachi's eye patch.

Swallowing whatever phlegm he still had in his mouth, Ichigo rubbed his eyes again in a try to see a little better, hoping that his tired mind was playing tricks on him, but the creatures in the choker still remained.

There were at least eight fanged mouths on the inside of the collar. Kenpachi had had about four of those mouths and they had taken away a massive part of his energy…

Ichigo gritted his teeth. What was the meaning of this?

He reached out with a bony black nailed hand and put it on the edge of the object. He didn't really grab it; more or less let his hand rest upon it. Immediately the eyes on the collar opened wide and the mouths started chewing frantically at the air with a vicious snarl. The collar started jumping and moving on the floor. Ichigo instinctively pulled his hand away and the collar stopped moving.

Ichigo crawled to the other side of the cell, as far away from the thing that the chain around his leg would let him. He defiantly didn't like it. His breath had picked up its phase in his chest and his body tried to make him more alert, tried to force the need to sleep away. He moved his limbs together, his bound leg staying outstretched with the pulling chain, but it was better than nothing. His vision was getting blurry again, but he shook it off, he knew very well that now would be the worst time of all to pass out from lack of sleep.

"I told you to put the shit on!" Grimmjow growled through gritted teeth, making Ichigo snap back to attention, as the Espada unlocked the door to the cell again. He roughly stepped inside and kicked Ichigo right in his sore ribs before the boy had the chance to do anything. The strong man ignored his whimpers of pain as he reached for the black collar. It started moving again but Grimmjow took it in a firm hold before the collar could get anywhere.

Ichigo couldn't do much but to stare when Grimmjow grabbed his thin arm. Ichigo managed to take a deep breath, clenched his darkly rimmed eyes shut before with a hard, rough movement the black choker was pushed against his throat. It opened and closed around his neck on its own.

"AAAH!" Ichigo screamed, screeched until it felt like his lungs were going to burst, despite the fact that they had a hole straight through them. His body cramped in pain and he twitched on floor. It was like a thousand knives stabbing him at once and fear crept into his gut and began to eat at his soul.

As he lay cramping with his eyes rolling into his skull, he felt the others strong hands grab his bandaged arm and the large handcuffs were placed over his forearms and manacles around his feet, immobilising him. It made his cramps even more painful.

Laughter directed at the boy was heard when the pain in every part of his body abruptly stopped. Ichigo gasped for breath, dragged it harshly into his open chest, trying to make the pain that burned inside of him like fire stop. He blinked furiously; red staining his already blurry vision, the extreme pain pushing the little blood he had left out of his very eyes.

Grimmjow grinned wickedly at Ichigo as he thread chains between steel loops on the collar, down though the cuffs and down to the pair of manacles to chain his feet as well. The arrancar then carelessly pulled Ichigo's light body into a sitting position by the newly attached chain and looked him right in the eyes. His grin strengthened when he showed Ichigo a small white remote.

"With this I can paralyze the hollow fragments in the collar with an electrical pulse." Grimmjow mused and trailed his thumb around a big red button on the little machine. "When I push this button, the pulse stop and the hollows will start eating you again. So don't try anything." His eyes narrowed as he said the last part.

Ichigo looked away and bit his lower lip but nodded reluctantly before he was pulled to his feet. A black bag was violently shoved over his head, blocking his vision.

Grimmjow pulled the boy forward and out of the cell. He led Ichigo through the seemingly empty great halls for quiet some time. It made Ichigo wonder if they were walking back and forth just to make it seem like Ichigo's cell was really, really deep into the palace or it simple was a gigantic place. But he couldn't really tell.

Suddenly he was shoved inside somewhere with a yelp as he almost tripped over the door ledge, the sounds in the room telling him it was small. He heard Grimmjow walk up to him again, grabbing his thin arm and pulling him with him. Ichigo was shoved down on to a chair shortly afterwards and felt rough hands move around his heaving chest, trying something around him to keep him stuck to the chair.

Just the walk had taken out heaps of Ichigo's energy, his breath was ragged, his muscles sore. His legs aced as they where still stiff and powerless. Ichigo wanted to eat, do drink and roll around in bright blood, to feed on the life of others as he couldn't stand the chained hunger, he wanted it gone, wrench it out of his brain. He wanted blood _now_, desperately.

The thought of wanting to do such a thing still rang wrong in his ears, but he knew it was something he just had to get used to, or he would die wouldn't he…? He sighed, feeling his breath fan back into his face as it hit the bag over his head. Ichigo tried break free from his restrains, even if he knew that with his tired body it was futile.

"Do you have any proof that you are not here as an undercover spy for Seireitei?" A question was suddenly barked out, no preparations or anything to hint that he was going to be questioned, not that he hadn't figured it out already.

"I have a hole right through my damn chest! What do you think! Of course not!" Ichigo's temper flared, anger rushing through his veins, the question hitting a weak spot he didn't know he had.

"Pssh, don't take us lightly, there are several ways to get a hole like yours, kid." A new stingy voice spat, the voice owner's finger harshly poked the teen in his chest, right above the rim of his hole.

"Yeah, I was born with a hole in my body and then just now I started to have a strange need to eat people! But I just notice the hole recently! My bad!" Ichigo snorted sarcastically, unable to help himself. The finger slid downwards, into his lungs, the sharp nail digging into the soft tissue, splitting it. Soon four more nails joined the other one.

The teen gritted his teeth and tried to hold back a scream, resulting in an agonised moan. He wriggled in the hard, uncomfortable seat, trying to get the nails out of his lungs.

"Stop! Stop it! I told you I don't have anything to do with them!" Ichigo shouted. The pain was harsh, intense and strange. Strange as the pain was in a place it had never been before, right in the core of his body. It was not something he could push into the back of his mind and ignore.

"Then what's your purpose of being here?" The voice that Ichigo did not recognise hissed, reminding him of a snake.

"To hide." Was his short, blunt answer as the pain was still clear in his mind, making him hiss it out through his clenched jaw. 

"Elaborate." The stiff and most cold voice of the grey skinned Espada Ulquiorra rang through the air.

"Fine!" Ichigo growled, his breath harsh, his fingers clenching around the arm rest. He figured it was better to simply tell them than sit here all day and get claw marks in his breathing organs. "W-e… I wanted to escape; to have a little more rest than just a few hours a-"

"A ha! There it is! The _'we'_! I told you he's a fuckin' psycho!" Grimmjow's surprisingly pleased voice rang out in the room, off to the right. Ichigo felt like he was being pointed at until the Espada's hands grabbed his shoulders, shaking them mercilessly.

"What's with it! Why do you keep calling yourself 'we'!" The teal haired man shouted; his face close to Ichigo's now.

The teen did not answer, not wanting to reveal the already obvious truth. He stayed quiet and tried to hold his head straight, he didn't want to get a whiplash from the rough shoving. He was happy for the bag over his head; it was at least helping a little in keeping the dreadful stench and spit away from his skin that came from the man. Grimmjow growled, his former glee gone and he decided to solve it like he always did with everything; violence.

He needed to vent his anger somewhere and where was the best, if not the cause of all the problems to begin with? So he gladly shoved his clenched fists into the weak boy below him. Into the face, gut and a little strangling too, just to make it all seem worth it. He was angry after all, that bastard of a hollow, Ulquiorra, had of course been squealing about the kid to the master, leaving any hope of reward out.

Ichigo's painful moans and screams echoed between the walls, his body complaining loudly at the beating. But then a cold hand suddenly stopped Grimmjow's arm, making him end his actions and look at the owner of the hand. Ulquiorra looked at him, with an emotionless gaze and let his arm go, which fell to his side.

"There is no need for violence Grimmjow." He simply stated as he pushed the adrenaline pumped man aside, to stand in front of the gasping boy.

"Escape from what, Ichigo? The shinigami?" He asked simply, ignoring what had just happened.

"Sh… Shinigami…" Ichigo answered and winced as his lips and jaw hurt with the movements.

"Because you are what soul society calls a Vizard, a hybrid, correct?" Ulquiorra stiffly asked again, most probably embarrassed of the other Espada's action, but refusing to let it be noticed.

Ichigo didn't know what to say at the question, he knew everyone knew he was a Vizard but he could not help but to lie, almost as if it was a bad habit even when he had never really lied about it before. But after everything that happened, did he still count as a Vizard? Wasn't that just a gang of people, a club of outcasts, not a name for the species… plus the other Vizard's didn't have holes in their chests.

"No." He said firmly, trying to sound honest. "I was never born a hybrid." He lied a white lie, implying that he had been made into one by Urahara Kisuke, not born, at least as far as he knew.

"Don't fucking lie kid!" Grimmjow suddenly burst out; form to the left of the teen now. He could hear the rage of wanting to be right coat the Espada's voice and out of nowhere a fist collided forcefully with his face, bursting his lip open. It hit again, the knuckles connecting hard with his eye this time. It kept going, the teen's face starting to numb and small drops of blood staining the cloth that covered his face.

"I'll fucking beat the mask out of you! Stop lying!" He nearly screamed in frustration and anger.

"Stop! P-lease stop!" Ichigo begged, underneath the sack. He knew that what they where doing was something anyone would do, that every former enemy would be interrogated, but why did Grimmjow have to hurt him so? Why couldn't he just let the others ask simple questions?

The red button was suddenly triggered again. Agony flared from the collar that tightened itself into his soft flesh, painful fire igniting in Ichigo's dry veins and scorching its way throughout his body. He gritted his teeth, not wanting to scream but he could not hold the intense pain back as his life was eaten away from him. Ichigo roared in pain, it was much worse than before and before he knew it, he lost his grip on his spirit energy; it flared out of his system, crashing out like a tidal wave.

He never felt the chair fall to the floor with a loud clatter along with him; the pain was taking away the surroundings, making his mind fuzzy and numb. Blue energy swivelled about him, twirling and twisting in pain as Ichigo scream increased. But as suddenly as it had come, the pain died, like someone had abruptly cut the cord.

"That was not wise Grimmjow. We were not given orders to cause him damage, only question him, its part of the basic protocol. I do not want you here if you cannot contain yours-" Ulqourria's voice was suddenly cut short along with Grimmjow's angry shouts as the doors to the chamber flew open and a tall, brown haired man slowly entered the room.

The orange haired teen never heard the doors to the chamber open, but he could have sworn he had heard the others whimper at the entrance of the other. The newcomer obviously held higher power than the rest.

The chair Ichigo was bound too was lifted soundlessly, except from his own grunts of pain and the person, who ever it was, leaned close, mouth at the side of his head.

"Kurosaki Ichigo." A strong voice whispered in his ear. "My name is Aizen Sousuke. If I tell you that I can take the pain away, will you listen to what I have to say?"

Ichigo stiffened, his breath caught in his throat and he imagined his energy into his soul again.

"I apologise if the Espada's have been a bit… rough." His soft, yet strong voice mused. "They can be a bit… disobedient at times." He talked as if he was speaking to an old friend, his voice coated with false concern. Ichigo didn't reply, unsure of what to think or do, he knew the man was one to easily manipulate his victims, one that always thought before he spoke.

"I have an offer for you, Ichigo." There was a brief pause. "If you stay here, there will be no need to fear the shinigami any longer." Aizen smiled, even if he knew the boy could not see. "You do not wish to be hunted anymore, do you? You'll be safe here with me. I'll be there when you need me; I am strong and will keep you safe, I promise you this. We are all here waiting for you to finally be one of us, Ichigo."

As Ichigo was about to answer, the world around him seemed to stop, his pupils loosing focus before him and he felt like he was falling helplessly.

He landed face first on blue concrete, his face going numb on impact. The teen twitched on the ground, his mind chocked and disoriented. He gasped into the hard wall beneath him, his mind slowly taking in that he had been forcefully pulled into his own soul, where still blue buildings towered in their side turned world. Heavy, never ending rain poured down from troubled skies, drenching his body almost instantly. A shiver went down his spine and he wished he had never been forced down here.

An icy cold hand met with his shoulder and he turned around slowly, his brown eyes meeting with yellow ones. Shirosaki stared at him through the water. He bore no clear expression on his face, no mad grin or angry snarl. It seemed frozen, unblinking. Ichigo stared back, no words uttered until the hollow's marble like face moved; his bright voice barley rising over the sound of the rain.

_"Why!"_

Ichigo wasn't sure how to answer the question, but he could feel the anger that was hidden behind it. He looked away from the staring eyes, knowing that soon the hollow would snap.

The fist met with his jaw, sending his entire body moving to the left with its momentum.

"_Why!"_ Shirosaki bellowed, his voice screeching. _"Why do you let them treat you like a piece of shit!"_

"What do you expect me to do? Are you fuckin' blind!" Ichigo suddenly roared at the question, holding his jaw as he staggered up from the ground. "Don't you see the chains? Don't you feel the collar that's killing us!"

"_Ch'!_ _So what! You just can't accept such a complex offer so blindly! Don't you see!"_ The hollow sounded desperate. _"I know it sounds lovely when you just listen to it, but you have to read between the lines! Do you seriously think he will let us wander around unsupervised, let us do as we please? No! He will not!"_ Shirosaki glared at his king, making sure he understood_. "He wants something for what he offers, King. He will keep the chains; keep them so firmly you will have trouble breathing."_

Ichigo clenched his fists, his face darkening as his anger rose, thunder mixing with the rain clouds. "Don't you think I know that! I'm not as stupid as you think!" Ichigo shouted loudly. "I know he will use us for his advantages, make us do what he wants. But you have to stop staring blindly into your own perfect little world and your fantasies from down here and see what it is really like! You're not the one taking the toll, taking the beating; you just sit in here on _my _fucking buildings playing smart! Its not as bloody easy as you make it sound!" Ichigo took a deep breath, anger reeling though his mind, making his entire body fluster with rage. He pointed a stern finger at the hollow, his eyes narrowing.

"I am the King and what I say will be done! I won't have anymore of this stupid fucking arguing! If I say we will stay because it is simply the logical way out, the only way to stay safe, it will be done! I'm sick of it all, I'm sick of running away and I will stay here until we are well enough to leave, eat their food, sleep in their beds and steal their water until I'm sick of that as well!" The teens face turned red as he screamed, his hand twisting in his albino self's clothes and lifting him up from the ground. "I don't care what you have to say about it, _horse!_" He forcefully let go of Shirosaki, who fell to the ground with a thud.

To Ichigo's surprise the white boy was grinning, a broad satisfied grin. Ichigo bent down quickly, once again grabbing the white clothes and pulling the marble white face near.

"What's so damn funny?" He whispered his voice still filled with anger. Shirosaki snickered in reply.

"_I didn't think you had it in you, your majesty."_ He lowered his head, as if bowing. _"It seems like you really did use your wits this time, I must say I am surprised."_

"Well, fun for you." He simply stated and shoved the hollow to the side, turning his back to the figure that once again lay on the ground.

Ichigo focused on getting out, out of the wet, cold place and with a shock wave of anger he was sent back, his eyes meeting with the face of Aizen and not the blackness from the bag as he expected. His eyes opened completely in shock, not having realised until now just how vulnerable he had been. Plus, the man was blinding, the soft glow coming from him making Ichigo slam his eyes shut, his eyes burning. So much life spayed from the man it was maddening. How could the others stand it!

"Ichigo." A hand was moved over his cheek, making the boy shudder as even that touch seemed to burn him with its life. "Are you listening to me… or are you perhaps talking to your hollow…?" Aizen whispered, as if he was revealing a secret, which he was.

_How dose he know…! _Ichigo though desperately, his breath speeding up, his eyes still wired shut. He did not want to see that man that was so filled with light, while he was so very dull and grey.

'_Aizen, there isn't stupid, King. Don't do something stupid __yourself__ now.' _ Shirosaki whispered; his voice almost sounding scared to talk.

'Fuck up! Not now, hollow!' Ichigo shoved his hollow back, demanding him to be silent. Ichigo was afraid he'd let more secrets slip than he already had.

Aizen seemed to be thinking, studying the teens face, calculating when Ichigo peered at him through small slits of his eyelids. Ichigo shuddered under the stare, not liking it the least.

"I will let you keep your secret for now, boy." He did not say the nickname as if it was an insult or a taunt, just simply a statement of what he was. The man then fell silent again, his eyes studying the squinting kid below him.

"Will you walk on the road I carve, along with the fellow arrancar, beside me?"

Ichigo fell silent first, his face hardening and turning stern. Was he going to let himself fall for it or not…?

"I will give you whatever you ask for; if you serve me. You will be rewarded for it, not later or in a different life, but now as in living with us. With me your hunger will be subdued and none will hunt you for what you are. I will shine like a sun in your world when it darkens, in my heaven everyone are equals under me and there none shall live in agony."

Oh, how cliché that sounded in the boy's ears, those sugar coated words of glory. He didn't buy it, not the least. But Ichigo knew he had to play it smart, for he knew very well with the display the arrancar that beaten him up with that most probably all the hollows had been forced into submission like was being right now. Was it really the way Aizen manipulated his soldiers?

Give them pain and suffering until they could see nothing else, then offer them the way out from the darkness and hunger like some sort of god, not telling them he was the one dealing the stab from behind? If you didn't serve, where you heading down the road of suffering until you crawled back up and joined?

Ichigo didn't like it, but he already knew he had to join Aizen or go back to the real world, to go back to the endless running from troops. He knew deep down it was better to yield to Aizen's hand than to let it torture him.

"Yes." Was his simple, blunt answer. He felt his hollow send him some strange, unwilling feeling of approval, one that very much matched his own, apparently seeing reason and agreeing with his king.

"A good decision, Ichigo." Aizen's calm voice rang. Ichigo could swear he had heard the pleased tone mingle with demand.

Ulquiorra, whom Ichigo had temporarily forgotten about, was suddenly at his side, green eye's holding no change in emotion at the news that Ichigo was now to stay in the same palace as him. The Espada removed the handcuffs and manacles. Ichigo carefully rubbed his sore, red wrists. The boy noted that, the thing he dreaded the most, the collar around his neck, was not removed. But when he looked questioningly at the Espada, he got to response.

"Thank you…" Ichigo mumbled, almost chocking on the words, how forced those words were… He grimaced as he already knew that it would take a while for those red marks on his wrists to disappear. He held his sloppy bandaged arm, and to his own worry it was still numb and unresponsive.

Grimmjow walked up to him, his face unreadable as his strong arm heaved the boy's bony one over his shoulder and Ichigo was led out of the room.

**End of Chapter**


	14. Las Noches

**Chapter 14: Las Noches**

The 6th Espada huffed as he dragged the weak, pathetic boy with him through the halls again. He pulled Ichigo's gaunt arm over his own shoulder and slid his arm in under Ichigo's opposite armpit. Ichigo did his best to walk on his own, but he was too exhausted and his face throbbed numbly.

He groaned loudly when Grimmjow decided it was time to walk faster, much to Ichigo's annoyance.

He was led to a hospital wing where he was brutally seated on one of the many beds. He glared at the arrancar as Grimmjow walked off to fetch someone apparently named Szayel.

The teen moved a hand to his face, massaging it. When he opened his eyes again, he yelped and drew back, a pair of dark yellow eyes starring at him that belonged to a pink haired man.

Studying the young teen's face carefully, the arrancar reached up with a thin gloved hand to slowly touch Ichigo's lip, to get a better look. He left to quickly come back with some cotton wads and to Ichigo's displeasure, a crooked needle with thin, half transparent thread in it.

"I'm going to stitch your lip together… uh…" The man trailed off, looking questionably at the boy in front of him, pretending he didn't know whom the kid was.

"Ichigo. Kurosaki Ichigo," Ichigo introduced himself, surprised the Espada did not know his name, everyone else seemed to.

"Ah, well then, Ichigo, I'm going to stitch your lip together with a thread that won't leave any stitches behind, so it won't show. Seeing you're a good healer anyway, there's no need to worry." The arrancar explained before he dabbed Ichigo's lower lip with the wet wad he had brought with him. Ichigo felt his lip go numb and the odd, rather creepy feeling of the needle slipping through the skin.

The arrancar worked quickly and gave Ichigo an injection when done, that the Espada said was harmless. It made Ichigo feel strange as the former fatigue lessened its hold over his body and his vision blurred for a few seconds.

Szayel gathered up his things, took off the plastic gloves he'd been wear and said that Ichigo was good to go, the other injuries being better off if they healed on their own.

"Are you sure he's ready to go?" He could hear Grimmjow quietly ask the other arrancar.

Ichigo sat on the side of the bed, dangling his legs, his shoulders lowering as he relaxed, his limbs feeling a lot better. He looked at the floor, carefully feeling the stitches on his swollen lip with his fingers.

"Yeah, he's good to go for now," The pink haired man answered, sounding surprisingly disappointed at it. Ichigo lifted an eyebrow but said nothing as he followed the other man out of the room.

Ichigo didn't pay much attention on his surroundings, his mind too tired to care. Eventually they seemed to come to a hall that had several doors lined up with even intervals between them. Grimmjow came to a stop in front of one of them. Ichigo didn't know how he could tell them apart, since they all looked exactly the same to him.

"This will be where you'll stay for now." The Espada said, yawning out of boredom and scratched the back of his head idly.

"I was told to dump you in here." He mumbled, opening the door for Ichigo to enter. "You can take care of yourself, so just stay in here like a good boy and don't do anything until someone comes to get you, got it?" Grimmjow sounded a little more serious, but not by much. Ichigo nodded at him, just to show that he understood.

The door was closed behind him, sliding shut silently. Ichigo let out a heavy sigh and his hand unconsciously went up to the collar, tugging at it. He wanted to tear it off; but it wouldn't budge in the least under his spidery fingers.

His eyes moved in their sockets, looking around the room. It was small, a white bed in the corner and a simple night stand stood next to it. One drawer, a table and a large armchair filled the rest of the small space. But Ichigo didn't mind - it was more than perfect for him. It was so very much better than an old warehouse, container, cardboard box or some other makeshift sleeping place.

The boy sat down on the bed and it turned out to be a lot softer than it looked. He sighed and ran his hand up his sloppy bandaged arm and started to carefully remove the fabric around it. Turn by turn; a small spark of expectation filling what remained of his chest as the last parts were removed.

To Ichigo's positive surprise he had a hand; it was pale, numb and extremely frail looking but a hand nonetheless. He slowly flexed his fingers, that looked more like bone pipes at the moment. Ichigo massaged it carefully, and he made a face, wondering just how long it would take for his limb to regain its former strength.

He heaved another sigh and peered around the small area again. This time he spotted something on the drawer. He stood and carefully walked up to it like a suspicious animal. He still held on to his numb hand carefully, but let go as he realised what the white, neatly folded pile was. _Clothes_, they were white arrancar uniforms.

The boy stared at them, as if they were lethal. He reached out with a suspect hand and ran it along the soft, yet firm fabric. He knew the clothes wouldn't make things easier, if not only harder in his situation if he was ever to return to the realm of the living. But what other choice did he have? It wasn't like he could run around in only his tattered hakama for the rest of his days.

Ichigo held up the clothes in front of him with both hands the best he could. White, white, white.

All of it was white with black inner clothing. The teen's frown turned deeper, the shade starting to get on his nerves. Wasn't it enough that the palace and sand was white?

He shrugged at his own question before going into the bathroom. He started to undress, the leftovers of his black clothes falling to the floor.

Water poured down over his skin once Ichigo stepped into the shower and the boy sighed; the liquid was blissful and welcome. He carefully washed his hair, grimacing when chunks of it stuck to his hands and flowed down the drain. His face twisted at the sight, he did not wish to loose his hair. He stopped washing it, hoping more of it wouldn't come off. He turned to the white soap instead and smeared it across his body, over his ribs and pointy hips.

He rubbed harshly at his dented, bruised skin, over scars and permanently red areas. His finger carefully trailed around his chest hole. He was careful, almost afraid to touch.

Once clean and feeling most refreshed, Ichigo couldn't help to feel like he had lost some sort of armour now when the dirt was gone.

He stepped out, dried himself off with a white towel and reached for the new clothes. Ichigo wondered, as he pulled the white hakama over his bony, sinewy legs, if his limps had been measured. The clothes were clinging to his body too well to have been sewn at random.

The teen couldn't help but wonder if he had been measured sometime while he had been in the small cell, but he didn't know. A feeling that he was being watched slowly started creeping over him, but he shook it off.

He looked himself over in the large mirror that hung in the rest-room, turning around on the spot slowly, but stopped rather quickly, taking in his body form. He knew he was thin and scrawny, but this was… he moved a hand over his hips, feeling them and his ribs poking out of his body all to well. His stomach sunk in beneath them. He frowned, finding his body anorectic. A careful hand ran over his face, staring at his chocolate brown eyes that ran deep in their sockets from too many sleepless nights.

"_Not looking too hot, Ichigo."_ A sly voice echoed in the teen's mind. Ichigo could feel the hollow form a Cheshire smile. _"White does not suit you as well as me!"_ Shirosaki added smugly afterwards, laughing heartedly.

The teen glared at his own reflection in the mirror, the look telling the hollow to shut up before he gathered up the remains of his old clothes. Ichigo clenched his fists, squashing the fabric he loathed between his fingers. His frown deepened once more as memories of what the men that wore the same uniform had done to him filled his mind. He pulled at the pants and heard the fabric's seams tear between his hands as he pulled at it.

The boy stepped out of the small restroom, harshly throwing the black clothes in the trashcan that stood in one the corners of his room. The new clothes felt new and refreshing, much to Ichigo's delight. It had been a long time since he had felt clean.

The orange haired teen lay down in his new bed, the soft sheets folding after his body as he sunk down into it.

"_You_ _know, King, what Aizen said before… it sounded pretty damn lame. I mean, geesh; 'I will give you whatever you ask for' and 'In my heaven everyone __is an__ equal under me'!_" Shirosaki suddenly mumbled, annoyed. "_Just listen to tha'! 'Equal _under_ me', what a load of shit!"_

"Yes I know, Shirosaki," Ichigo groaned, the hollow apparently only coming up from the depths of his soul to whine. The boy moved his hand in front of his face like he was chasing off an annoying fly. "But it'll do for now."

"_Tsk. I still say it's all jus' a pile o' shit, though."_

"Yeah, probably. But like I said before – It's better than what we had. It's the best chance we have to survive without being hungry or hunted… I'm so very sick of that. Sick to my very bones."

They both fell quiet and Ichigo quickly fell into a light slumber. His sleep was twitchy and he didn't rest for long before waking up with a yelp. The stimulus was keeping him going as if on amphetamine, and he couldn't sleep. He sat up abruptly, disoriented.

Suddenly the door opened and Ichigo realised it was the pressing spirit-energy of Ulquiorra that had awakened him. Ichigo quickly got to his feet, not knowing what to expect.

"Come with me, Kurosaki," Where the lean man's only words, as he opened the door and stopped in the doorway to Ichigo's quarters.

Ichigo complied, an uneasy feeling moving thought him. He hurried after the arrancar that had already started to leave.

"I have been assigned to show you the main rooms you need to know here in Las Noches," Ulquiorra informed Ichigo as he marched onward, heading down the long hallway. Ichigo followed behind closely, and eventually they stopped in front of a large door.

"This is the conference room. This is where the Espada meet with Lord Aizen," Ulquiorra led the boy up alongside a table, its design simple but precise. Eleven chairs were line up against it, their back support towering over the table.

"When your presence is required by Lord Aizen, you will not forget that he is the ruler of this world and therefore his words are absolute. When he speaks you are quiet and will not interrupt him. You will not look him in the eyes; you will look at the floor as you stand before him," Ulquiorra informed his follower. "You will always say his name in the terms of Sir or Lord. If you do not title him, you will be severely punished for your lack of respect."

Ichigo swallowed. Guess he didn't have any choice but to follow the formalities, even if he never really cared about them in any way. The green-eyed Espada has said it with the same boring, emotionless voice as he said everything else, but just how much he said about it showed that he cared deeply about respecting his master.

They didn't stay long and Ichigo was lead into a dome like room, which was filled with tables and chairs. Ichigo quickly recognized it as a dining hall.

"This is where we feed. Food will be served in the mornings and evenings," The arrancar instructed, leaving as soon as he had said it.

They kept going, passing the medical wing before they headed outside into the cold desert. To Ichigo's surprise he wasn't sinking like a rock any more. Maybe the sand was firmer here, which would explain why the white palace was placed there all together.

They walked in silence, the Espada in front of him apparently only talking when necessary. Eventually they stopped in front of another large building and Ulquiorra turned around, looking at him.

"These are the indoor training halls," He explained before opening the heavy doors.

Ichigo was expecting to see yet another version of Urahara's underground training places, but as he stepped inside, there was a vast and empty area. It was just a massive white floor, roof and walls, no boulders or unformed rocks.

The teen didn't pay the sharpest attention on the rest of the tour; it was long and becoming samey and boring. He slouched after the arrancar, dully noting the room's they passed that were named. Some place with extra towels, everyday use items and some other things Ichigo weren't really listening to. He was however surprised that he wasn't shown where Aizen or any of the other rogue shinigami had their residence.

Eventually they were right back where they started, in front of Ichigo's small chambers. Ulquiorra left, telling the boy to stay put in his room until he was further instructed. Pushing the door to his room open, Ichigo stepped inside with a sigh. As soon as he came in he noticed something was out of place.

Something stood on the only table in the small room. A white bowl; along with a spoon that lay next to it. Steam was rising from the bowl and Ichigo quickly stepped over to it as his expectations rose. He was unfortunately disappointed when saw something grey in the bowl.

It looked repulsive. He touched it with the spoon after sitting down; its rubbery feeling becoming very apparent. A face of disgust formed over Ichigo as he dug the spoon deeper into it and slowly moved it into his mouth.

His teeth scraped against the cold spoon and as the food met with his tongue, his eyes widened. The taste was _terrible_. But he kept a straight face and swallowed. Almost at once; a rush of euphoria rushed over him and his vision blurred as his pupils dilated. But as soon as it had come it died and was replaced by a most terrible and agonising feeling.

It was like he was being eaten from the inside by worms, he couldn't sit still, the terrible feeling making him shake violently. It ate at his soul as he gasped for breath, his throat swelling as if he had been crying. His chest seemed to grow wider as his face contorted with the utter sadness his body felt. It was so bizarre after feeling such joy.

He kept on eating; shoving the food down is throat as quickly as he could, to make the euphoric feeling last longer. But the bitter after taste and empty feeling increased as the bowl was empty, the white porcelain licked clean until the last drip was gone. He stared at it, the emptiness making him want to burst out crying and he could swear his hole grew bigger with every second that passed.

The boy cringed, his spine curling together and his arms started to twitch as he gasped, his chest heaving. He looked around himself desperately, eyes darting back and forth in their sockets as Ichigo raised, his body shaky and unstable. The world spun around him, as he felt like his entire body was being reset, every vein twisting and turning as what he had just eaten forced its way through them. His breaths came in short gasps as stars flickered across his vision.

Ichigo whimpered desperate wordless sounds as he had no clue what to do. He pulled at his hair, clawed at his face that seemed to be stiffening a long with the rest of his skin. Ichigo was starting to become scared. Had he walked into a trap and eaten poison?

He staggered out of the room, the memory of being told to stay put long gone. His arms shock uncontrollably at his side and Ichigo gasped for breath, his chest heaving up and down quickly.

Ichigo moved around in the corridors, his voice uttering animalistic sounds of despair. He whimpered uncontrollably, the eating feeling never stopping. His chest ached terribly and he wrapped his arms around his chest as he wobbled forwards, not knowing where he was going, the white walls all too similar in his dizzy mind.

He tried to move on, but collapsed to the floor, his knees giving in as it felt like worms where creeping beneath his kneecaps.

Grimmjow, whom was heading to the conference room, saw a heap of a body in a passing corridor.

Curiosity got the better of him and he headed over, already having a good idea who it was before he got close enough to see a blob of orange hair.

Nor was he surprised when he saw Ichigo's body lying, more than sitting, limply against the wall. Grimmjow frowned and stepped closer to Ichigo that made no sign of acknowledging his presence.

The miserable boy looked as dead as he probably could. Pale white skin, eyes unblinking, body still as if it was frozen and lips slightly parted.

Grimmjow took the frail looking boy in his arms, lifting him up and carried him to the hospital wing. He knew perfectly well why Ichigo had appeared to have given up.

Since Ichigo was no longer drinking blood to fuel his body, he had to get used to the substitute nutrients. The food never stopped the agony, only made it worse in the beginning. What it did was to chain the instincts to kill and stop it from consuming the mind for longer periods of time.

All of the Espada had been there, at least what Grimmjow knew, since those nutrients could only stop the eating empty feeling when the body had accepted the food as replacement as well as it could. They ate it because eating blood and souls would make them have to go hunt at all times like regular hollows, thus rendering them useless for their master Aizen.

Once in the hospital part of the palace; he laid Ichigo on a bed and went to fetch Szayel; who he found where he was supposed to be and the pink haired arrancar impatiently left the meeting to treat the boy.

Almost a day later Ichigo was in his same dreadful state as before and hooked up to several machines. His body had been drained, the combined fluids in the brain to create happiness all used up. It happened to everyone eating it. More for some, less for others. The food kept doing that until the body adapted and compensated by creating more happy fluids. But some never manage to even it out to fifty, fifty, some stay a little too happy at all times, some always stay a little stiff, numb or emotionless.

Two days passed before the teen woke up. He felt heavy and it was hard to open his eyes. He peered around himself, recognising the area as the sick bay from the last visit. The pink haired man that he did not remember the name of was soon at his side, looking down at him with eyes Ichigo didn't know if he could trust or not.

"How are you feeling?" The man asked; his voice low.

Ichigo wondered what the arrancar was getting at, the last thing he remember was eating something terrible and feeling just the same way afterwards. Sure, he felt numb and a bit dreadful, but he dismissed that as the hole in his chest. His questioning face could not have been a surprise for the man in font of him.

"Ah, you may not remember it very well; the first time is always traumatic for everyone. You seemed to have collapsed in the hallway and weren't responding to external stimuli," The Espada said.

Ichigo swallowed uneasily. What had happened…? He couldn't remember.

"Grimmjow came carrying you in here about three days ago," Szayel explained, while fiddling with the IV that was attached to Ichigo's other arm, trying to remove it. "Getting used to the food here will take some time, but it works well once you have. It keeps the hunger at bay, makes you function more as a human than a monster."

_Function more as a human… _Ichigo shuddered at the choice of words, had he become so much of a monster? He hadn't had he? Or maybe he had, when he thought about it… he couldn't really tell.

He shoved the question out of his mind, as he felt uncomfortable just thinking about it. He wriggled in the bed, feeling Szayel pulling the IV needle out of his arm and removing the tape that kept it in place. He was given some injections from the thin man, who said it was harmless medication, just something to help him in the beginning.

Ichigo didn't say anything, an uncomfortable feeling crept over him again and he touched his face. It felt dry and stiff to him, reminding him of marble, but perhaps that was only his imagination.

The boy left the hospital wing as soon as he was allowed, wishing for nothing else than to get away. Sure, the Espada had done nothing wrong or threatening against him, but Ichigo still felt as uncomfortable under the pink haired man's gaze as he did with everyone.

He wearily walked out of the room, heading down the flawless corridors, his feet taking uncertain steps. His skin felt tight, as if it had been cast in a form to make it smooth, but hard to move in. He walked around aimlessly in the palace, trying to get a better idea of his surroundings and make his body easier to move. He eventually came up to an opening in the wall, which lead to a small, yet beautiful balcony.

The boy stepped out on it, the wind immediately starting to play in his hair and clothes. It felt nice, the soft breeze gentle against his stiff cheeks and face. Ichigo sat up on the ledge of the balcony, his arms snaking out over one bent leg, so he could lean his chin against it while the other hung over the ledge. He gazed out over the desert, the brilliant white sand disappearing off into darkness, where Aizen's eyes did not see.

He closed his own eyes, curling together tighter. He was starting to wonder if he actually had done the right decision in joining the men dressed in white. Eating their food hadn't turned out to be as easy as he expected. What the hell was it anyway…? He couldn't figure what it was made of at all… all he knew was that he never wanted to eat it again.

Had it turned his skin into smooth marble and his face into stone? He didn't wish to become a rock… it was bad enough when his hunger was not subdued and he turned into an empty shell… His other arm joined the first one over his leg, burying his face in the crock of his arm.

Ichigo's miserable muttering was soon interrupted, as he could smell a certain blue haired Espada approach, long before the steps where heard; which stopped in the doorway.

"Go away," Ichigo huffed, just having company seemed to irritate him to no end. He was too used to being alone, he didn't want others near him, the thought that the person would soon attack etched into his subconscious.

Grimmjow frowned, not liking the distant attitude of the kid, not in the least. Hell, he liked the cocky, violent attitude a lot more. That was something he could easily cope with – hell it was just to snarl back. But he wasn't much for this, this sad, pathetic one. He stepped up to the boy, staring at him.

"You'll get used to it and the burst of misery will go away you know," Grimmjow said, sounding more stern than concerned.

"Stop being so pathetic!" Grimmjow suddenly shouted after an awkward moment of silence. He grabbed the boy's arm, harshly clenching it as he pulled it along with him.

"H-Hey!" Ichigo yelped and tried to pull away. "What are you doing!" He questioned Grimmjow as he was being pulled along with the man, heading west and down steep stairs. The Espada only turned around and grinned at the boy, making Ichigo become suspect at what was going to happened.

He was dragged outside, lead through the sands. As he struggled, trying to pry his arm free from the arrancar's hard grip, his arm was suddenly released and he fell clumsily onto his buttocks.

"What took so long, slowpoke?" A snakelike voice suddenly rang out, which Ichigo instantly looked up at. The man was as thin as him, long sleek body towering high, black hair hanging like silk from his head. To Ichigo's surprise all the Espada were gathered, everyone was standing in the sand, looking down on him. He quickly covered his nose, a nauseated feeling washing over him at the smell everyone seemed to bear, even himself. The smell was repulsive.

"You," The thin man suddenly barked at him, glaring. Ichigo glared back as he rose from the sand.

"What!" He snapped.

"Come with us," The thin simply said, a creepy smile forming over his long face, revealing abnormally long teeth. Everyone turned around, heading east, away from the palace's main buildings.

Ichigo marched along the others, whom steps seemed eager or at least resolute. He wondered where they were heading, but said nothing. They kept going for some time, but suddenly the Espada in front of him stopped and Ichigo almost walked into him.

He stepped to the side, trying to see the reason for stopping, but he only saw the endless desert. He raised an irritated eyebrow slowly, why had they stopped? There was nothing there.

But suddenly the sand moved, vibrating more and more, shaking the earth. Ichigo backed off, not liking the way the sand was sinking into a large crater in front of him and the way the wind seemed to become more and more vicious. It blew wildly through his hair and the others, everyone's clothes whipping around their bodies.

A large sand like creature rose from crater, higher and higher into the cool air. It twisted and turned, ripping its long body around and around until a crown of sand covered the creature's head and not so surprisingly a mask covered its face, hiding it from the world. The hollow moved; heaving its heavy arms to hold its long body above the sand.

"Ichigo!" Grimmjow called, so everyone could hear. "It' time for you to learn to cut for blood even when you're not under the influence of blinding hunger! You cannot kill with full strength if you do not believe that death is the only way for your opponent to go!" There was a pause. "And too see that you are worthy to stay with the Espada, we will test you." There was another pause, which Ichigo irritatingly frowned at. "If you survive, you will have proven yourself worthy to stay in the same place as us."

Ichigo's muscles flexed, as his anger rose and he was about to shout in protest, but before he got the chance, Grimmjow was once again blaring.

"Take him to the forest, Lunuganga!" Grimmjow shouted, his expression looking as mad as his voice sounded. Ichigo's eyes winded as a similar crater as the one the hollow had come from opened just before his feet. Before he even had the chance to flash-step away from it, he slipped down the hole, falling into ebony darkness.

**End of Chapter**


	15. Into the Mist

**Chapter 15: Into the Mist**

Ichigo fell far, far below the cool desert of Hueco Mundo. Through fog so thick he could feel it drench his clothes, wet his hair and sting his eyes. His body twisted in the air, trying to find something grasp on to, to stop the endless fall. But he felt nothing within his reach as his arms and fingers stretched as far as they could muster.

The vertiginous ride soon ended though, as fast as it had started. His body slammed against a wall, sending him flying helplessly before hitting soil ground, the impact taking the air out of him. Shards of sharp rocks pierced his skin, bruising it and splitting one of his orange eyebrows open.

The young teen lay in heaps of rocks, the collision with the wall just moments before causing loose rocks to fall over and bury him. Fingers twitched and Ichigo's eyes where shut tightly as he gasped, trying to refill his lungs with air. He pushed himself into a sitting position with great struggle to get the rocks off of him and groaned. Ichigo opened the clothes that covered his lungs and air quickly flowed back into them, almost too fast as his head started to spin.

Ichigo grabbed his head, pushing his fingers against his eyes, massaging them. Once his breathing evened out and mind was somewhat clearer, he peered out over the land he had been pushed into. His vision met with thick white fog and outlines of tall curvy pillars that faded into never ending darkness as he looked upward.

How far had he fallen…?

The question rang in his mind as he stood, eyes meeting with nothing else but that fog in every direction. It was hot where he stood, damp and moist. It was a sharp difference from the cold desert above.

Ichigo took a few steps forward, seeing nothing but the swirling fog around him. A foot miss-stepped and he was sent falling again, his back sliding along sharp rocks that stuck out from what he guessed was a mountain, or perhaps he was on one of those tall endless pillars.

This time he landed well enough on his feet, arms waving around himself to not loose the little balance he had. The rocks he had caused to fall echoed loudly through the silent fog, clattering thunderously until it hit what Ichigo assumed was the ground with a softer thud, not too far down.

He jumped, throwing his body aimlessly into white fog, feet first, arms out stretched. His thin body soared through the damp air and he fell again, this time a bit more controlled, but still he stumbled as he met with the soft ground, that came sooner than he expected.

He covered his mouth with a spidery hand to breath through his fingers as he got up, the fog pressing against him. He looked around himself, moving his free arm in front of him, in an attempt to scatter the mist, but to no avail, it only snaked around his fingers.

Through the eerie silence of the place he loomed slowly forward, the fog growing thicker as he walked on. Ichigo quickly started to miss his cleaver as much as he had done the time he had dropped it. He wanted to cut the mist away with his sword as he needed to see, the alarm on how very defenseless he was ringing higher than ever in his ears.

So Ichigo ran, thin legs pumping against slippery grey rocks, in and under vein like branches and through dust. He had to feel where he was going and he wished for nothing more than to leave the blinding fog.

Suddenly and abruptly the fog cleared in front of him as if he had passed through a barrier. As he took a deep breath of the clear air, he was hit by a terrible smell. No; it was a stench.

A disgusting smell of death that made bile rise into the back of his throat. He covered his mouth again and closed his nose with his fingers. It was repulsive and he knew exactly what it was.

Hollow.

Many of them. He hadn't sensed it in the mist, but now the stench clogged his nose and throat. He had smelled something similar from the arrancar, but it had been much, much more subdued. That smell he could stand, but this…

It made him want to move further away from other hollows than ever before. The smell of death; the rotting empty shells of flesh and bone. Ichigo backed into the white fog again, feeling it twist around his skin, as if threatening to strangle him. He moved just within its border, the mist lessening the stench greatly. He peered through it, moving to the left along with it, climbing larger trees and rocks. He hid among the many crystal trees and tried his best not to make any sound at all, as he knew the other hollows were close.

He knew full well that he had to get back up; to a place where he could reach the cool white sand that occasionally would fall from the top that he couldn't even see. He started sprinting in a random direction, hoping it was one that led to the way out.

But as he ran, all while trying not to breath to much of the mist, he stopped as his senses tingled and he almost ran into what he had hoped he wouldn't have to meet.

The menos grande towered above him. They were more threatening than ever now that he had no weapon at his disposal. Ichigo stood still, then started to slowly back away from the gigantic foot, only to almost bump into another one. He swallowed nervously and tried to shut the stench they gave off. He had to get away unnoticed and he couldn't help himself as he was becoming afraid of the monsters, feeling small next to their enormous form.

There were many, many more than he thought there would be, each one towering above him like a skyscraper, their long black robes swinging about. Ichigo spun around, jumping out of the way of the enormous feet that trampled around as if they were scared. He looked around; desperately trying to understand what the large creatures where so frightened of.

He understood when he saw hundred of red, evilly glowing eyes, the owners of them hidden in the thick mist.

A large hollow that wildly jumped out of the protecting mist barked fiercely, moving his arm for the others to follow his lead. Numerous of hungry hollows followed; all of them screaming, legs thundering against the ground.

Ichigo bailed, realizing that the horde of monsters and beasts charged after him, not the menos.

The boy vented out thick spirit-energy with a scream, its sheer force knocking most of the hollows a couple of meters away from him. He didn't hesitate, running away as soon as the path was clear, forcing a flash-step out of his body to get a good three hundred meters away. He landed neatly on the soft ground, dust blowing up around him and clinging to the fabric of his pants before he started running again.

He ran swiftly, arms swinging at his side forcefully, his chest heaving. He could hear the heavy grunts and snarls of the monsters just meters away. The teen jumped again, flaring out spirit energy from his feet to make the jump greater. He slammed into one of the crystal trees, his nails digging desperately into the surface, trying to cling to it. He slid far before he managed to stop, just out of reach of the hungry pack of beasts.

The teen carefully climbed higher, the slippery crystal hard to get a firm grip on. He slowly gained height thought, fingers getting cut open against the sharp parts of the enormous tree until he came to a branch. He clumsily pushed himself up to it, the area being just big enough for one person so huddle together on.

Ichigo knew he had no real defense, no claws, no sharp teeth nor a whipping tail. But he knew he had a trick up his sleeve, one that he had never tried but was pretty sure he was more than capable in doing.

A cero.

He held up his hand in front of him and crawled over to the edge to aim down at the still raging beasts below. They where to his dismay starting to make their way up the tree themselves and Ichigo held up his hand in the air infront of himself and focused with everything he had to get energy into his limb. He felt it strain at the massive load of it, his veins growing bigger on his hand, his fingers starting to go numb. He wanted to fire what he had gathered in his hand, tried to shoot it away but nothing happened, into only swayed in blue around his fingertips.

"How do I fire a damn cero!" Ichigo growled to himself angrily, his frown etching further into his forehead. He charged his hand up again, trying to send it forwards somehow with his imagination. But as before nothing happened. Ichigo sat back up, knowing full well that the hollows would reach him soon.

He screamed when foul but powerful looking arms suddenly appeared at the ledge way too close to him. Soon bone white masks with greedy eyes joined the arms, their fags dripping with saliva.

Ichigo quickly stood up and started to kick the monsters of the ledge, satisfaction coursing through him as he heard them scream helplessly when they fell. But the hollows were many and more and more seemed to gather at base of the tree. Ichigo knew his plan would not last for long and with a burst of energy he blasted most of them off the ledge.

The boy turned around, not wasting the opening he had gained and started climbing the tree again, hoping he could get high enough to throw himself past the monsters below him.

Ichigo peered out over the land from where he hung, the menos grande where still bumping together clumsily, but to his dismay more seemed to be gathering, the horde turning into a field of black pillars. If they where so scared from the other hollows on the ground, why where they still gathering around the threat they had just been running from…?

His spirit energy. He had just vented it out like a fool. He cursed loudly, but continued to climb along the tree, trying to find a safe spot below, but to his dismay it was all covered in that mist, making the ground invisible.

'_King. What are you doin'?'_ Shirosaki's bright, irritated voice suddenly rose from inside.

"I'm climbing you moron, can't you see?" Ichigo unthinkingly snapped at the voice.

'_No, you are running away again!'_ The hollow growled through clenched teeth. _'Stop it! Stop!'_

Ichigo obeyed, but growled back irritatingly. "What is it!"

'_Let me take over! I'll kill them! I'll slaughter them for you!'_ Shirosaki almost begged, longing to come out.

"No!"

'_NO! What do you mean no_! _You're bein' dumb! Let me fight! Ya know you can trust me!'_

'Shut it! I know that! But I don't want to fight like this any more; you know I'm sick of it!'

'_Then let me, Ichigo, I'll kill them for you! Let me take over!'_

Ichigo mumbled something the inner hollow couldn't hear and curses flared under the young boy's breath. Ichigo didn't want to get hurt more than he already had, didn't want more meaningless fights, he had enough. But then again he knew that the best way for him and Shirosaki to get away was of course just to slaughter the hollows senselessly and then make their way to the top.

Ichigo growled and felt his inner demon's irritation and the desperate want to come out tug at his soul and with a sickening, nauseated feeling he felt Shirosaki rise inside his mind, reaching with cold hands for control.

'_Let me take over, King!'_ It was more a demand than a request now and Ichigo's limbs were starting to slip away from his mind. He had no choice but to release control, or he would fall down helplessly with no chance of landing safely. With yet another, strong wave of nausea was he pulled away, his hollow now in control.

"You just have to show them how's in charge!"

With a blast of black abyssal spirit-energy flaring, Shirosaki leaped off the tree, fingers outstretched like claws and the sharp fanged mask quickly covering his face, viscous lines of blood giving it war patterns.

Out of his lungs a guttural roar erupted. The same matter that formed the mask started to seep out of the hole in his chest as he charged head first into the other creatures. His small, thin body moved between the pack of monsters, their attacks much too slow to hit their target. Shirosaki jumped up onto a larger hollow while channeling spirit-energy into his feet to strength his attack, the force in the landing making the monster collapse on to the ground, ribs and spine broken. The boy crackled madly, the adrenaline rush so sweet in his dry veins.

He dove for the others, his feet colliding with their rough skin. His hands connected with flesh and he forcefully ripped it into threads with a scream. Blood splashed out from the wound and the hollow screamed. The boy's hand met with pale lips beneath the mask and Shirosaki shivered in delight.

Shirosaki grinned in victory, greedily swallowing a chunk of the limp body before it turned cold. But he didn't let himself get distracted for long and soon the whole body was gone as every other hollow seemed to forget about the orange masked boy.

Every beast there threw themselves at the dead hollow, fighting for its taste instead, Shirosaki long forgotten. Their snarls and greedy screams made it easy for Shirosaki to back of and with a swift jump he headed away, his unintended diversion working perfectly.

"Got you now!"

A sharp claw hit Shirosaki across his left, lower arm, tearing his skin apart. The teen screamed out as the pain seared through him. He growled as nothing happened, the flesh-wound gaping open at the world. He jumped back, deeper into the mist as his fingers started to numb off as the attacking hollows claws had cut deep enough to scrape at the bone. The wound tried to heal, but it wouldn't mend on its own, as Shirosaki's body no longer had anything to heal it with.

Moving his other hand over the wound, all while dodging the attacks of the larger hollow, Shirosaki forcefully filled the deep cut with his own spirit energy, the skin scorching black as the wound was burned away, melting the tendons back together again.

The wounded hand shook uncontrollably as it mended with brute force, Shirosaki's face twisting in pain, his jaw set and lips tightening in an attempt to not show any weakness, even if it was hidden behind the mask. _It hurt._

Shirosaki screeched as his fingers twitched, straining and flexing as he moved his index and middle finger forwards, holding the others back with his thumb. The hollow would pay for what it had done.

"Fuck off outta my sight!" He snarled and in front of his fingers a pressure started to build up, a massof energy gathering into a small ball. It glowed intensely, the pure power of it making the boy's hand shake.

The ball was fired, Shirosaki screaming along with its roar as it broke the sound barrier before it hit its target, the massive beam cleaving through flesh, bone and rock. Anything near it dissolved into bits and pieces. The result was devastating; a massive crater left after it, limbs of half dead hollow's twitching on the ground.

"Now that's how yah use a cero, Ichigo!" Shirosaki sung with glee, his arm still trembling from the force. The hollow couldn't help but to let his mockery shine through, at his king's every on going pathetic attempts at fighting. He laughed heartily, his voice turning more and more monstrous as minutes passed. The white puss like matter never stopped forming from his chest, and ever so slowly sticking to his skin.

'Why won't that… _stuff_… stop coming out of our chest!' Ichigo screeched, ignoring Shirosaki's mad laughs.

"It's bone skin. Don't wet your pants, it will protect us," Shirosaki stated as he leap over a rocky precipice gracefully. The white thick liquid slowly crept over his body, smearing over his arms and hands, turning his fingertips into sharp, deadly claws.

'Make it stop! Now! I do not want it!' Ichigo demanded from within, fear of what he once more becoming something else scorching through him. '_Function more as a human'_ was still ringing painfully in his ears.

"Tsk… Listen Ichigo…" Shirosaki said as he landed on the other side of the cliff. He snarled viscously as he saw another large hollow standing at the edge of the mist. It growled back when it spotted the masked boy.

Shirosaki tensed and quickly drove his hand into the hollow, splitting the soft tissue of the canine like hollow's abdomen. The monster roared, a dying scream escaping it as Shirosaki pulled his hand out, pulling its intestines out with it. The boy jumped back, the large hollow slumping to the ground, its insides making a mess over the sand.

"…It's not dangerous; it's a part of us. We are one and you know it, you just have to realize we are a monster. We will take the shape of one when the core part of it, me, is in command. Plus it makes us stronger, moron," Shirosaki snarled.

Ichigo didn't know what to say, still not really wanting to acknowledge the fact that he was nothing more than a beast. Shirosaki let out a sound of annoyance and then raised his hand to lick at the intestines he was holding with a long tongue that was slowly turning black to match the hole in his chest.

But as soon as the blood was smeared over the tongue, he recoiled, throwing the slimy body parts back into the sand. It tasted dreadful, even worse than it smelled. Shirosaki scraped his tongue against his mask's sharp teeth, trying to rid the taste.

"Fuck… tastes like shit…" He breathed and clenched his slimy fist. "You hear tha'! You all taste just like what yah are! Shit!" The masked boy suddenly burst out, his voice echoing between the walls of the enormous trees.

'Shut up, Shiro!' Ichigo's sharp voice rang loud and clear inside the hollow's mind, making his head jerking up, listening, and lifting an eyebrow in the sudden mood change of his host. 'Don't attract attention, moron!' Ichigo snapped, his words of choice sounding much like the one he was talking to.

"Ch'! Fine, your majesty…" The boy mumbled, eyebrows narrowing further as he bowed to seemingly no one in front of him. Shirosaki turned his head upwards, looking at the darkness above, eyes gleaming as he headed west, his steps light and careful to not leave any trail behind.

"Shiro, where are we going?" Ichigo asked his inner demon, his voice still firm and demanding.

"Getting us out of here." He bluntly answered, scratching his mask covered cheek with a new formed claw.

But Shirosaki did not head for the exit, he had no clue where it was anyhow and he had other ideas in mind. His body was pathetically weak and with no substance to heal except for burning the skin back together, he wouldn't last long and he couldn't have that.

So he sped off, his body slipping between branches and pointy rocks. The hollows never seemed to lessen in the open, fog-less areas and none smelled with life. They all seemed dead and dry as they moved aimlessly in the crystal forest.

Shirosaki couldn't see anything either in the mist, but he kept running at its edge, where it was thinner and easier to peer through. He tested, as if just to see if it worked, to spray his spirit energy in front of him. To his pleasure the mist instantly moved away, clearing a wide path ahead of him. He snickered at his success but was quickly told off by Ichigo once again not to give away their location. But he ignored his King's order and kept a clear path in front of him, not wasting more energy than necessary and tried to hold it down, so it wouldn't fly off and alert others too much. But soon he stopped dead; once again pulling all his energy back in, as something had caught his senses.

A dull yet sweet smell was slowly moving through the air. He turned his head, smirking in its direction as he ever so slowly moved closer to the source. Who was hiding in the mist, where no one else seemed to be?

He came to a clearing and what he saw as he stood at the edge of the fog, made him let out a low, yet fanatic giggle.

What was this…? A shinigami?

Shirosaki grinned madly at the rough looking man, even if it didn't show behind the mask. The skinny man's spirit energy was bright gold, a bit dull but gold none the less. This was so much better than a hollow.

The shinigami was covered in the hides and masks of slayed hollows, a goat like mask covering his face as if to hide his eyes. What an ignorant fool of a man, any hollow could easily see his eyes beneath it since they were glowing of what every hollow wanted; life. Sweet, honey like life.

Shirosaki slid along the sand down the steep hill, sand blowing up like a hurricane behind him. He stopped a few meters away from the new found man, raising his masked face eerily to stare at him with black and golden eyes.

The shinigami had, of course, already turned his sword against Shirosaki, who made no sign that he had even noticed the blade. He slowly circled the man, who was eyeing him beneath his own stolen mask.

The shingami attacked, swinging his sword swiftly from the right, Shirosaki's black and yellow eyes easily seeing it travel through the air. He effortlessly took it in his bone covered hand, the steel causing no damage what so ever.

"Now, now; naughty aren't we, shinigami?" He drawled, clenching his hand around the blade. "Attacking without uttering a word, maybe I should take you for a hollow, eh?"

The skinny man said nothing, keeping still as if he was trying to anticipate the masked boy's next moves, his eyes calculating.

"Think you're smart, shinigami?" Shirosaki giggled and pulled teasingly at the blade, keeping a firm grip over it. The hide clad man pulled back, trying to wrench his weapon free from the hollow's grasp, but Shirosaki followed with the momentum, swayed his arm along with the movements, not letting go.

"Let go, hollow…" The man suddenly hissed, earning yet another giggle from the humanoid hollow in front of him.

"Oooh, oh, oh; so you can talk? Well, isn't that sweet?" He drawled once again. "But I don't like it when you're talking, shinigami!" He suddenly shouted and his hand that wasn't holding onto the sword quickly darted, its clawed finger tips cutting across the shinigami's shocked face, his mask falling to the sand in two pieces, the claws slicing it in half.

The man screamed, pain searing through his face as his lip, eyelids and cheek had been cut open. He fell back as the laughing boy let the sword go when he had flinched backward at the unexpected attack. He broke his fall with a hand behind him, worming around in the sand before quickly getting up into a defensive position again.

He leered at the boy; this was no ordinary hollow, that was clear, nor could it be a Gillan or Adjuchas, he was much too human looking for that… What as it? A Vasto Lorde-class hollow?

But he was not going to stick around to find out, the hollow boy obviously a lot stronger than he had thought," the hollow had its hand around his sword without even flinching, a sword that could cut through rock if he so desired.

The shinigami ran away, to which Shirosaki could not hold back laughter at. Oh, just run little shinigami, _run_. He grinned, easily following the bright light he let off, a greedy urge to swallow it all up growing inside.

His tongue darted out to lick up the drops of blood on the tips of his claws before it dried, a sweet shiver moving down his spine pleasantly. He could feel Ichigo squirm in expectancy of devouring the body, his lust for it just as greedy as his demon's.

"What do you want me to do, King?" Shirosaki mused as he threw himself from branches to branches, staying just close enough to see where the shinigami was heading.

'Kill him! Eat him, now!' Ichigo shouted, the so very strong urges getting the better of him once more and washing away all judgements.

"As the King commands," Shirosaki snickered, more than pleased at the answer and with a violent flash step he landed on a ledge where the shinigami's bright glow had suddenly disappeared. But it did not stay hidden for long, as Shirosaki noticed a small cave, well more or less a large crack in the rocky trees wall. He quickly snaked his way in. He laughed again, a small chuckle escaping his lips and he entered what was a carved out cave where someone lived.

As he jumped out into the more open area, the sword Shirosaki had been holding just moments before was stabbed right through his chest, his cocky ignorant attitude keeping him from entering with caution.

The Shinigami had come from below, jumped up and twisted his blade to hit his target, right in the boy's chest, hoping to land one final blow. He couldn't have this hollow, or whatever this boy was, know the location his hideout. He was however once again taken aback as the sword hit nothing, sticking through air, ripping the boy's cloth open. Damn it, he had hit where the hole was.

The hand that had been fused together before, curled around the foolish shinigami's blade and Shirosaki grinned behind the mask again. With a swift motion he let go of the blade and grabbed the shinigami's hand, keeping it stuck on the hilt of the katana.

Shirosaki's free hand snaked its way behind the man's neck, forcing the shinigami to stay close. The now completely black tongue darted out from under Shirosaki's mask, stretching far to smear it across the shinigami's bloody face, a heartily moan escaping his throat at the most wonderful taste the blood held. Old, strong blood… so very tasty.

The teen could feel the shinigami's face contort with disgust under his tongue. But when the man tried to wrench free, Shirosaki wasted no time and quickly darted his face forward, sinking his mask's teeth into the now screaming face. The blood instantly flowed faster, the boy's tongue and mouth eagerly lapping it up.

The man's animalistic scream of pain sent shivers down Shirosaki's spine, but when he felt the man's spirit energy flare, he took no chances and effortlessly sank his claws beneath the skin and snapped the shinigami's neck, the body instantly falling to the floor.

'What did you do! You were supposed to eat him!' Ichigo's voice suddenly returned, sounding accusing.

"Ch'." Was all the hollow uttered, before he lowered his body and pulled the sword away from his clothes, out of the hole. Whit a simple movement he used the shinigami's sword to easily cut the arm off and snapped the bone to greedily stick the stump into his large mouth.

His eyes quickly closed, the hot blood flowing into him like a river, his chest and body shaking. Oh, this was just what they needed… so very refreshing, good and pleasing. Shirosaki felt Ichigo draw nearer to the surface, yearning for the raw pleasure and blinding ecstasy.

The blood coursed through his veins, making him shiver in delight. His body started convulsing, the now familiar feeling of his chest shrinking together starting. But as soon as he had begun drinking, the body below stopped bleeding. Within seconds it swiveled away into nothing in front of him. Shirosaki sat on the ground, staring at the spot, the face underneath his mask a tad bit sad until it turned into a stern frown. What a weak, pathetic shinigami.

"Tch'… This sucks…" He muttered, rising from the ground and he licked his lips and threw the shinigami's sword to the floor, where it clattered against the rock before he headed out of the cave.

Shirosaki fumed, throwing a rough punch into the side of the mountain he was standing on. He whirled around, jumping down from the ledge he was upon, into the mist again.

'Hey idiot! I though you were going to find us a way out!' Ichigo shouted fiercely once he had regained his senses from the sudden loss of sweet entrancing blood.

"Not yet, I'm going to find something more to eat!"

'Well I'm not going to!' Ichigo suddenly bellowed and with an unexpected shove Shirosaki was back in the inner world with a yelp. 'I'm getting the fuck out of here if you won't!'

'What the hell! I was, you fucktard! After we've gotten stronger!' Shirosaki shot back, grimacing.

"Yeah right!" Ichigo snorted and stared at his hands, his fingers completely covered in sharp bone and almost his entire arms. His chest was coated in it as well, his skin white and shimmering like marble. He trailed a hand over it as the bone slowly started to flake off his skin, falling like ash to the ground, where it swivelled away.

Fatigue suddenly hit him, his chest heaving has he tried to regain his breath. He breathed through his nose, closing his eyes in a try to still his breathing as he ran a hand through his sweaty hair.

"Fuck this… I'm gonna leave this damn place and go sleep in a bed, because there's no way I'm sleeping here!" He mumbled, more to himself than to Shirosaki as he dusted the rest of the crumbling skin away. The bone on his hands and fingers didn't seem to want to lessen just yet. His frown hardened, annoyance etching his features.

Ichigo took a few deeps breaths, until his breathing was calm once more and he braced himself before he jumped. He grabbed onto the branches and sharp crystal edges he could find, once again clinging onto the tree's side like a leech. He heaved himself away, leaping through the air, to slam into another one, gaining height ever so slowly.

He swung away again and again; sweat tickling his skin at the enormous efforts to swing himself so far between the trees. His clawed fingers helped a lot, but soon they started to disappear as well, his finger tips cutting open as he slammed and scraped against the trees rough surfaces. Soon he was high up, gazing down over the forest that now looked more like a grey, ever so softly moving veil, with faint silhouettes of the large Menos Grande looming in it.

Ichigo stood on a ledge of a larger branch, a faint wind gripping at his dirty clothes as he saw it, the blissful bright moon shining a faint light from above, the starry sky that filled the heavens peering through the smallest gap. Ichigo pulled his tired limbs with him, fingers grasping the sharp rock like bark of the crystal trees.

Soon he would reach it, the white soothing deserts surface. After a few great leaps he was so high up that he could touch the hardly packed sand. Ichigo frowned and he took a deep breath before his hands dug into the sand and it fell over his face, coming in his mouth and eyes, filling his lungs as he dug himself through it, he wasn't going to waste any more time. He couldn't breathe due to the constantly falling sand, but he didn't care.

Ichigo pushed and pushed, almost doubting that he would ever reach the surface, but after taking a deep breath, he steadied himself once he slammed his firsts into the surface, to break his way through. His bony hand broke the surface, stretching and groping after the air like he had risen from his own grave.

Around him a crater started opened, the sand moving like a current around him, falling away. Ichigo panicked, forcing a flash-step as he exploded out of the air with a scream. He landed face down in the sand, sand blowing up around him from the force.

"Heh, I almost thought you wouldn't make it!" Grimmjow's massive grin filled Ichigo's view as he was pulled up from the ground by rough hands. Ichigo stood weakly, shaking on his feet and wiped sweat from his forehead and he headed away from the ledge of the hole, not wanting to fall down ever again.

Everyone of the Espada seemed to have been waiting for him, but there was no cheerful happy screams, no waving hands of glee or hugs of welcome. There only where hard claps on his tired back. Certain hostility had lifted, most probably from seeing that the kid in front of the Espada was no weakling, but still there was no real happiness. Only that cool air of acceptance made Ichigo feel a little more at ease.

It was like only a threat to kill him had been lifted, but the will to murder was just hidden behind a thin veil. Their hands were forced, it was more than obvious as Ichigo walked back to the white gleaming palace.

Ichigo wondered if all their hands were forced. The base instinct and want to get away from others of the same kind was still there. He knew the test had not been Aizen's doing, that was clear. But then again it was Aizen that said he could stay, so in a way the test had just been a way for the other monsters to know where they were willing to put the new small one in their pack, was it not?

**End of Chapter**


	16. Examination

**Chapter 16: Examination**

Ichigo lay in his too soft bed, face impassive. He moved an arm to lie over his face and sighed for what felt to be the millionth time. He rolled over to his side, his spine cracking loudly in protest as he did. God, he felt stiff.

With a groan the boy rose from the bed; he needed to shower. Ichigo had simply been led back to his quarters; nothing had changed except for the Espada giving him different looks and perhaps, he wasn't sure, talked to him with a little more respect. Not that anyone had really talked to him.

Layers of dust and sweat still coated his body after the rough events in the desert and while trailing a hand over his dry skin did he stand.

As he walked over to the door that went to the bathroom, he suspiciously eyed the small bowl that once again stood on the only table. In a quick, unthinking movement, he grabbed the porcelain and the spoon and scraped it's grey contains into the small bin. Then he quickly placed the objects back where they had been as if nothing had happened. He slid into the bathroom seconds later as if to hide from whomever that could have seen him.

The boy leaned against the door, the little mischief making him giddy. He had no idea what would happen if he was discovered. He quickly stripped, his clothes falling to a heap on the floor. As he passed the mirror, he frowned. His eye's where still a faint black and yellow after Shirosaki's long time in command. He leaned closer to the glass and lifted his lips, finding the gum and tongue there an unpleasant tint of grey that had once been black, all to match the devouring hole in his chest.

Ichigo had seen it on other hollows, the teeth of theirs hanging empty within the mask, the colour of their gum and tongue cloaking the real mouths insid, just leaving the teeth visible. He had hoped it wouldn't happen to him as well, as it looked rather creepy. But it was quickly fading, much to the boy's satisfaction.

His mood turned a little brighter after the welcomed shower. He changed his clothes; taking on new ones that he found stored in the drawer and crawled into the bed. He tried to relax in it, but he couldn't. His back protested loudly again, not liking the softness of everything. Crawling out of the bed, he let his body fall loudly to the floor, the pillow still in his hand as he did. He shoved it under his head, resting it and his body against the floor. This was better.

Ichigo was used sleep on hard, rough ground. The bed was anything but. The floor wasn't very comfortable either, but it was better. It was ironic, for how many times when he had managed to sleep, had he not dreamt of a bed like the one next to him? And now when he had it, he could not find himself sleeping in it.

However he did not get to rest for long, not that he wasn't used to that, only sleeping or resting for a couple of minutes was something he had done much. A knock on the door disturbed him from his seemingly empty thoughts. The door was slowly, hesitantly opened.

Ichigo sat up, as he tried to see who it was. The thing, he couldn't really tell if it was male or female, was small and round. It looked hesitantly at Ichigo, but never directly meeting with his eyes.

"Mr. Aporro wishes to see you, Mr. Ichigo," the small thing squeaked.

Ichigo lifted a stiff eyebrow at the title he was given, but said nothing as he rose from the floor. It was probably one of the pink haired Espada's servants. The round thing hurried away, eagerly showing the way to the hospital wing where the 8th Espada seemed to spend most of his time. Ichigo stepped inside, wondering why he had been summoned.

"Ah yes, welcome," The arrancar said. "I would like to have a word with you, Ichigo. But not in here, so please come with me."

"Um… alright. Fine." Ichigo hesitantly answered, his sandals clicking against the floor as he followed the arrancar and his two servants that seemed to come as well. Ichigo did as was told and follow, he didn't know what to expect from the man, so he guessed it was best to play along.

They did not walk very far and entered through two sliding doors a room that also seemed like a hospital related one. Only here the machines were bigger, one of them looking like an MRI scanner. Ichigo could guess what most of the machines were for, since as he had after all been raised by a doctor. But they did not stay in that room, as the 8th Espada disappear behind a smaller door to the left.

Once entering it as well, Ichigo saw a long couch, lengthy enough to lie in. Understanding that he was supposed to sit on it as Szayel sat down in an armchair next to it, he walked over and sat down. The arracnar's servants seem to be gone for the moment, not that Ichigo knew how they could just have disappeared. Ichigo frowned and lay down on the couch. That seemed to trigger a reaction from the arrancar who grabbed a notebook and a pencil.

"Since it seemed like you're going to stay here…" He sounded awfully disappointed to Ichigo. "I need to take some samples and get your medical condition, so when you're off worse I know how to treat you. But first I will start with a simple interview."

"Fine." He said, not really caring, but perhaps fearing a bit it would end up like the interrogation.

"How are you feeling about staying here so far…?" The question was asked with little concern.

Ichigo didn't answer at first, he didn't dare to complain, sure it was harsh and rough here as well, but nothing like on Earth. He did after all have a place to sleep here, a roof over his head and was given food, whenever he thought it tasted well or not. And so far he had not been chased or hunted by the people living here and that was by far better than anything. He knew he did not wish to leave.

"Fine." He answered again, trying to keep it simple and not elaborate.

"Can you tell me, why exactly the shinigami attacked you? Was it because you once invaded and attacked Soul Society, something you said or did; or was it because you are a hybrid?"

"We already told that during the interrogation you guys had." Ichigo snapped and turned to his side on the long couch, facing away from the arrancar.

"I was not there I'm afraid, so tell me why." His voice was turning stern.

Ichigo didn't answer; he crossed his arms over his chest sternly, looking grumpy. Only the sound of Ichigo turning to lie on his back again could be heard.

"The shinigami somehow decided; we don't know the details of it, that we were considered a threat when they found out we are a hybrid. Seemed like they didn't like it and decided we were going to be killed and considered a casualty of war. We don't know any more than that." Ichigo finally mumbled quietly as if not daring to speak too loudly about it.

"They gave you chance to explain yourself?"

"No, but a close friend warned us ahead and taught us how to hide our spiritual pressure and gave us a small head start."

It sounded to the Espada like the boy had decided to keep on explaining, but stopped himself before he did, determined to keep his secrets.

"Alright, we're going to leave that for now as it's of little consequence of your staying here" there was sound of several papers being turned and hastily written on. "How do you react when you are angry or agitated?"

Ichigo was a bit surprised at the question, finding it peculiar. But he only lifted an eyebrow at it. "Why do you need to know that…?" He eventually asked.

"That's not really any of your concern. But let's just say I have to… help sometimes." Szayel sounded like it was the last thing he wanted to do, since the Espada was a man of science and had had the doctor licence forced upon himself by Aizen.

"Um…" Was all Ichigo uttered at first, but then he gave the question better thought, since he was one to anger easy. "Eh, guess we tend to lose our temper easily… and we often act first when we get pissed at something, throw, break or punch things…" Ichigo started to fiddle with his thumbs, the answer to the question making him embarrassed, realizing how very stupid his and his hollows common behaviour was.

A small chuckle escaped Szayel at the answer, much to Ichigo's surprise. The arrancar seemed to notice his rising eyebrows.

"Ah, just that the reaction of yours doesn't seem to be too uncommon by the people in here…"

Ichigo didn't know who he was hinting at but couldn't help but to think of Grimmjow, but he guessed everyone here had extreme aggressive problems, everyone here was after all hollows hidden behind human bodies created by Aizen. Ichigo wished he wasn't like them, he wanted to be normal, but then again his own idea of normal was rapidly changing.

At first when he was a mere human, it had been small things like clothes, believes and ways to act; foolish they seemed now that he could see further beyond than just the lingering spirits. Then when Rukia had come normal had turned in to a death god dressed in black slaying monsters with swords. But then that had crashed and burned, as it hadn't been as simple as he had thought, and normal had quickly changed again - into something he couldn't name anymore. Too many things changed in a far too short amount of time.

The nagging scribbling from the writing pencil soon stopped and Ichigo expected another question to be aimed at him, but there was only a thinking mumble coming from the arrancar. Once again he was squirming in his seat uncomfortably and he was starting to get hungry. His eyes widened at the realisation – where was he supposed to find food? The idea of nutrients of course hit him in the face; maybe avoiding it hadn't been the best of ideas…

"Also you seemed to consider yourself as two people, Ichigo. Since you are a Vizard, you are half hollow and you seem to have taken on more and more hollow characteristics than most Vizard seem to have. Does this mean your hollow side has fully become an entity as its own or are you diagnosed with dual personality, schizophrenia or do you perhaps have delusions, hallucinations?" The question was asked carefully, as if he was asking something that was insulting to talk about.

"Er…" Was all he uttered at first, a bit taken aback at the question. He couldn't help but to hear the word_ freak_ echo in his mind, the terms the arrancar had used hitting him like a brick. He had never though of his hollow as _mental condition _before.

'_It's not like ya are bein' discrete 'bout it.' _Shirosaki's clearly annoyed voice boomed in Ichigo head, making the boy cringe as it bit. Ichigo bit his own lip, hard. _'N'_ _fo' yer personal information I'm no disease.'_ The bright voice mumbled, falling silent but not leaving now, clearly not liking where the questions where leading.

"We… No, we are not diagnosed with any medical conditions, but my hollow is another version of myself, my alter ego. Not a disease." Ichigo quickly but firmly answered, as if he was trying to avoid answering. The Espada said nothing, only scribbled down something on his paper again. It did kind of irritate the boy, not knowing what the man was writing about him.

"I see." Was the only answer he was given, and Ichigo couldn't help but take the silence as a mockery as if the Arrancar was holding back a laugh and a cocky 'that's exactly what dual personality is, _freak!_'

But it never came; only the harsh scribble was heard over the silent breathing from the two and Ichigo squirming in his seat. Shirosaki seemed a bit edgy as well, not liking the current topic at all.

"But how, I must ask, can your two brainwaves co-existing peacefully and not fighting for dominance? You should not be able to maintain a stable balance, your brain should be overloaded and seizures and headaches imminent."

"Oh, we fought a lot for dominance." Ichigo blurted out without thinking, but was quickly shushed silent by his hollow, stopping Ichigo before he could reveal everything about their past.

"How did you then come to term to not keep on fighting…?" Szayel asked, a little more eagerly now, obviously finally finding _something _interesting about the kid.

"We fought and I won." He bluntly snarled, trying to show the man he did not wish to talk about it. Those were his secrets and problems and none of the arrancar's business.

Ichigo expected the arrancar to retort and demand an answer, but he asked for none. A light wave of coughs escaped the boy and his hunger launched another stab at him, the colours dulling around him. He fought not to let it show on his face. He closed his eyes for a brief moment.

"Ichigo, I would like make an MRI-scan on you." Szayel's voice rang through the air, breaking the growling silence.

"Why?" He asked, surprise clear in his voice, his brown eyes fluttering open once again.

"Because I have to admit I'm very intrigued by your metal state." The arrancar said, sounding surprisingly interested.

Ichigo crossed his arm, leering suspiciously at the pink haired man. "We are not some sort of animal you can experiment on." He spat fiercely.

"Oh, what's the harm? It will not exploit any personal secret, I promise." The man said smugly before he rose from his seat, carefully putting his papers in a plastic pocket that had been lying on one of the few tables in the room. "It won't hurt you in anyway."

He turned to face the orange haired boy, looking as if an idea had just struck him as he corrected his skeleton glasses. "Do you actually know what an MRI-scan is…?"

"Of course, it's a scanner used to visualize the structure and function of the body."

"Ah! I didn't recon you to be the type to know that sort of thing."

Ichigo tried not to seem offended as he followed Szayel out of the room. They stopped next to one of the circular machines.

"Please take off your shirt so it won't be in the way."

"We never said we were going to do it." He mumbled under his breath.

"Oh, but I can already see you agreed, I do know how to read body language you know."

Ichigo's frown deepened, but after standing on the same spot glaring for a few seconds, did he do as he was told. It was better to just do it than to start a fight. He felt uncomfortable under the eyes of the Espada; he did not want to show his corpse of a body. But nevertheless he lay down on the cold surface of the soft plastic rubber, goose bumps covering his arms as he did.

"Have you been in one of these before?" The man asked as he attached some sort of IV to Ichigo arm, probably for the scan. Ichigo shook his head and bit his lip. The injection made him feel warm and his body flushed. What was that stuff?

"It's nothing to worry about, all you have to do it to lie still while the machine scans you, it won't hurt at all, you won't feel a thing." Szayel said with a pat on the boys shoulder and walked off, not even looking at Ichigo after his words of comfort. Ichigo continued to bite his lip.

Soon the machine buzzed and he felt the board he was lying on vibrating before it slowly moved him inside the circular hole. Inside everything was pallid and a little tinted to the yellow of old age. Ichigo let out a sigh and tried to relax, he had to keep still. The humming increased dramatically and it sounded like something was rotating around him, and soon harsh light flashed forcefully in front of his eyes.

'Fuck!' Ichigo cursed, the light blinding his eyes. He squirmed, his face contracting to stop the light from hitting his eyes. But it kept hitting him, in fast harsh blasts together with the loudly slamming sounds of the machine. His arms quickly pushed their way up to his face in the narrow place, his legs slightly bending, in an unconscious trying to curl together.

His fingers blocked out most of the light, but not completely and the machine seemed to roar at him in anger with its revolving sound. It increased dramatically and suddenly a metallic taste filled his mouth. Ichigo screamed as fear and primal hunger started to tug at him, making his mind reel. The sounds reminded him too much of swords clashing and he panicked as visions of his own death plunged his mind, more and more of that metallic blood taste filling him.

"Let us out!" He barked as his weak scrawny arms and legs pushed and banged against the white walls. His neck and face strained, the tendons clearly visible in his throat. "Let us out!"

A crackle, as if a microphone had been turned on, suddenly mixed with the already deafening sounds and soon the scientist's voice was heard clearly through.

"I told you to stay still, it's nothing to worry about, and it's only sound and light, nothing harmful. Lie still!"

"NO!" Ichigo screamed, his voice ripping into a monsters scream, harsh and threatening. "Let us out now!" The request was hard, demanding and still coated with fret.

The sound started to die down, the lights flashing going away and the hash beating fading. Ichigo kicked weakly at the base of the tube, wanting the arrancar outside to hurry. The board was slowly pushed out by the machine, but Ichigo had already squirmed his way out before it was done. He stumbled across the floor, wanting to get away from the machine as fast as he could. The boy stopped a few meters away from it, panting heavily.

"What happened?" The question was firmly asked.

"The light, we couldn't stand it, it was driving us mad, the sound too," He said, his arms pulling around himself, eyes wide as he obviously was shaken from the experience he thought would have been nothing. At first no answer came, Ichigo busy with massaging his eyes and stilling his breath to see what the arrancar was doing.

"Have you been eating as you should?"

Ichigo wasn't escaping the question, was it so obvious? "Don't need it…" He mumbled, looking away, but his twisted voice easily told that he was lying. The Espada's face turned foul at the statement.

"Don't make me repeat myself," He said, almost snarling. "Hold him," Szayel commanded his two servant arrancar who were there within a seconds, holding the teen down. Ichigo screamed, knowing full well he was going to get force fed. Ichigo broke loose, rolled dramatically to the side and managed to get up fast enough on his sinewy legs to scurry away, out of the room without getting caught.

He ran away, shameful at his own, childish actions but he couldn't help it, he did not want to feel so terrible again. Ichigo headed for his quarters, not knowing where else to go. Once there he closed the door quickly behind himself and looked for a place to hide. The drawer proved to be too small for even his tin body; he was too tall, his long legs and arms sticking out of it. Ichigo crawled in under the bed and pulled his arms and legs close, trying to become as small as possible in the corner, peering out from beneath it like a cat.

The pain in his head filled him, growing a long with the hunger in his chest. He grabbed his skull forcefully, clawing at its skin and hair. He breathed through his teeth, what the hell was this pain…? But he did not get to wonder long before his door was opened violently and two pair of feet stepped inside.

"Hey idiot," Grimmjow's annoyed voice sounded from the door. "Someone told us you've been a real pain in the ass and avoiding your food." The 6th Esapada stepped inside, looking around and soon he peered into the bathroom. Finding it empty he stepped outside again.

"You are required to eat. No exceptions," the sterile voice of Ulquiorra rang through the air.

"We don't want to!" Ichigo covered his mouth with his hands as soon as he had called, unintentionally revealing his rather obvious hiding place. He tried to breathe as still as he could through his nose, wishing he hadn't been heard. But Grimmjow dropped to the floor, landing neatly on all four to peer in under it. He grinned victoriously when he spotted the boys there. He quickly crawled forward, only to see Ichigo push further into the corner, trying to get out of reach.

"Oh no, you don't!" Grimmjow shouted, something of an evil smile playing at his lips as his arm shot out to grab at the kid. He missed as Ichigo moved out of the way, only centimetres away from Grimmjow reaching fingers.

"Come here!" He snarled, but his voiced betrayed him, holding more amusement than anger, apparently believing getting the boy out was going to be easy. Which it wasn't as Ichigo kept being just out of reach and clawing the blue haired man's reaching hand. His wicked smile turned into a snarl. "Little fucker, come out!" Grimmjow shouted and got a grip on the boy's bony arm. His smile returned and he yanked hard, but it slipped out of his grip.

Grimmjow stood up, irritation filling him. Soon however his cruel smile returned and a small object was quickly yanked from his pocket and pressed. A hideous scream that soon escalated into a roar was heard from beneath the bed. The boy's neck stiffed, unmoveable as the hollows within the collar sprang to life, eating anything they could reach as fast as they could.

Then it stopped, abruptly and sharp, his body still twitching as if it was still zapping him. His mouth was dry and his throat more than sore as he gasped loudly. He tried to stable himself, to stop his fingers and entire body from cramping. But his arm and shoulder was grabbed before he could do anything and he was roughly pulled out from beneath his hiding place.

"There's no getting away, brat," The Espada snarled as he grabbed Ichigo's arms and pulled them backwards, immobilising the boy and forcing him down on his knees. Ichigo winced, his shoulders being twisted behind him and his arms were held far back enough to break.

Ulquiorra quietly rose from his seat, holding two objects in his hands, a small spoon and bowl. Soon the piece of cutlery was shoved into Ichigo's mouth. Ichigo clamped his jaw shut, and forced his lips tightly together. The green eyed Espada's eyebrows twitched downward.

No matter how hard the arrancar pushed the spoon, Ichigo refused to eat, not wanting to feel dreadful anymore, he was sick and tired of it. He was going to refuse until he couldn't anymore. He squirmed and twisted in Grimmjow's grip, but he couldn't get away, more and more pain searing through his arms and shoulders for every twitch he made.

"Let us go!" He hissed, his face twisting with growing anger.

Ulquiorra didn't miss his chance and forcefully managed to slip the spoon past the boy's teeth. Ichigo snarled and spit it in the Espada's face, to which Grimmjow apparently couldn't hold back a shout of laugh. He was however soon quieted when Ichigo tried to use the distraction to get away, screaming.

"Fuck this Ulquiorra!" Grimmjow growled, tightening his grip on the boy who growled and tried to wrench free unsuccessfully. "He's as stubborn as a donkey! Geesh!"

"I think its best we take him to Szayel, Grimmjow. Let him deal with it, he has his ways." The man said, stiffer than ever as he smeared the grey rubber-like substance off his pale face.

Grimmjow grunted in reply and rose from the ground, lifting the kicking teenager up with him. He pulled and wrenched, harshly bringing the protesting kid with him, who screamed and tried his best to resist.

"Not back to the hospital!" He begged; he didn't want it. Not now, not ever.

Despite his objections and struggles, Ichigo was thrown inside the white room and landed clumsily on the floor, yelping loudly. Before he got the change to rise again several arms snaked around him.

"Hey! Let us go!" The boy protested, trying to wrench his body free, but failed as he was held down by six Fracción. In the corner of his eyes he could see Szayel and Ulquiorra fiddle with something, something plastic and tube-like.

"You know you have to eat it and if you won't on your own; I will simply have to force you." The pink haired man said; his voice clearly annoyed.

As the nasal cannula was pushed into the boy's nose, it felt so odd that Ichigo couldn't struggle; his arms limp at his side. It hurt, that was for sure, but it hurt in such a strange way that it made him freeze. He gasped for breath, trying to breathe while the small circular tubes were pushed through his nose, into his air ways, down his throat and out of his hole.

The boy gasped as gag effects filled his throat and he tried to push away from the pink haired man that was now fiddling with the transparent cords that hung inside his lungs. But Ichigo was held down firmly, yet gently by the other servants.

The plastic tubes were guided further into Ichigo's body, sliding down into his stomach when Szayel pushed them deeper. As they were secured inside of Ichigo's organs, Szayel let go and went up to a small machine with a container next to it. He quickly filled it with the nutrients and plugged the circular tube Ichigo was attached to into the machine, which started to slowly push the substance through it. Ichigo's eyes widened and he sharply inhaled as he noticed he was being fed though the cord.

"No!" Ichigo screamed, the dreadful feelings washing over him again. "No, no, no, no… no… please… Please no more…" He begged helplessly and gasped loudly as the feeling of worms moved thought his veins, tearing them open with their thick slimy bodies washed over him.

His limbs shock again and he tore his body away from the arrancar that held him down. Ichigo ran across the room, helplessly staggering around, gasping for air that never seemed to reach him as he choked on agony.

The small container rolled around with him while he moved around screaming on the floor. His fingers curled together, along with his toes. He was shaking, his body forcefully restarting and draining his energy in the process. The boy fell to his knees, gasping loudly.

_Oh, please, make it stop._

But it wouldn't, every part of his body straining, even his face. As he was about to scream, the tight feeling snaked around his throat, strangling him. Everything went black and he felt like he was drowning under black murky water.

**End of Chapter**


	17. Ache

**Chapter 17: Ache**

Ichigo gasped and his eyes shooting open. He struggled for breath, but his face appeared to be numb and unresponsive, nothing he did got his body moving except for his eyes. He tried to scream, but he couldn't even moan or twist; only a cold sweat started to cover his face.

Wildly looking around himself, his vision extremely limited, he saw drapes, long white ones hanging around him, shutting him away from anything outside. His vision lowered as he heard a pumping sound, realizing that he could still hear.

His wrist, ankles and head were strapped against a bed with thick leather belts to keep him in the half sitting position he was in, even when he was apparently drugged up enough to be unable to move at all. From the corner of his eyes, he could see various kinds of thin plastic suction cups placed over his chest, all of them leading to a monitor. They felt cold against his bare skin, as only his legs and hips were covered in white blankets.

A guide had been placed in his mouth and as far as he could see several much larger tubes disappeared down his throat. He could see them emerge from the hole of his chest, where they soon disappeared into his stomach or some other organs. They were large, much bigger than Ichigo thought could fit, his throat clogged up by the at least tree centimeters in diameter large tubes.

There was no gag reflex; the multiple drugs that were hitting his system stopping it. They were administrated through the various syringes' that had been pushed into his thin arms. They led to several liquid bags that were loaded in a steel holder next to the bed. The multiply colored drugs disturbed the boy and he mentally shuddered.

He wanted to breathe on his own, move on his own and scream and rip all the syringes and tubes away from himself, but no matter how much he wanted to, his body was as motionless as the dead. He lay there, listening to the faint humming sound from machines that stood behind him.

_Beep… Beep… Beep… _

The rhythmic sound needled at his brain, slowly and steadily driving his headache to new levels. It throbbed, erasing any chance of actually sleeping the dreadful reality away. All he could do was to stare aimlessly into nothing.

It felt like hours passed and at times he could hear people walk outside the drapes that shunned him away from view. Had be become an embarrassment for the arrancar simply because he was disobeying one rule?

He wanted to keep track of time, but he couldn't, nothing was happening or changing around him. But suddenly, after what could have been an entire day of nothing or a week, something started to hum louder than the rest of the machines. Ichigo's eyes darted in their sockets, trying to understand what was happening. His eyes widened however when he could glimpse a shadow appear on one of the largest tubes that went inside his mouth.

Panic started to twist inside of him again, like a coiling snake. He tried to move, but nothing in his body would do as he commanded. Desperately he wanted to get away, away from the dreadful feeling he knew would soon come. He watched in horror as the grey lumps slowly flowed thought the transparent tubes and down his lax mouth.

Like a tidal wave it crashed over him, tearing through his body. His body burned and once again he wanted to cry, whimper uncontrollably and stop his chest from acing so very terribly. His world swayed around him, his eyes slowly rolling back into their sockets as his body was harshly tormented. Helplessly he felt his body twitch and move beyond his control. Gurgling sounds escaped him, as his neck contracted, the many tubes in it moving. White foam bubbled up where it could, running past his lips and down his chin.

He felt like he was suffocating, the nasal cannula pumping in oxygen too slowly and his eyes started to water. It fell down the side of his face, mixing with the foam at the back of his head. Some of the froth splashed over his chest, his body still trashing violently in the restraints.

_Please make it stop._ Stop! _Stop! It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. Stop…_

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, the seizure calmed down and his fingers relaxed, his body slumping against the soft bed again. His mind was exhausted, the entire ordeal more than wearing. Soon his mind slipped into some sort of over tired, drugged black sleep.

The food came and went, every time making him feel like he was dying and his headache leap in effect. He was fed regularly but to him there were hardly any pauses between the sessions.

But one day, night, evening; there was no way of telling, the lamps in the room were always on, Ichigo woke up from some sort of blackout when he felt a shiver go down his body. Knowing that he was being fed again, he tightly closed his eyes as well as he could and wished for what couldn't be stopped to stop.

Surprisingly enough only a single spasm jolted through his body this time. But as always his ever present and pushing headache stabbed from the inside of his skull. But nothing more happened and the boy carefully opened his sleepless eyes.

What was going on…? He did not let his guard drop, expecting agony to pass through him at any moment. He waited for it, his headache soon becoming intolerable and he had to close his eyes before they would fall out of their sockets.

When he opened his eyes again, someone was standing next to him, a blurry dot in his smudged world. He squinted, trying to see who it was but no matter how many times he blinked, it stayed just as faint. But after the person, had fussed a lot next to him the guide was removed from his dry mouth, gurgling sounds escaping him.

A cold, gloved hand held his jaw for him and made sure he did not bite his own lax tongue once his mouth was gently closed. The needles slipped out if arms, the catheter removed and the straps around him lessened. He could not move, but he wasn't sure he wanted to be able to just yet as he was sure he had developed some bedsores from his continued restraint in one position.

Apparently he had not been strapped down and turned into a helpless heap of bone for as long as he had thought. He thought he had been behind the curtains for weeks to no end, but according to the 6th Espada, it had only been four long, sleepless days. But Ichigo refused to believe him, even if he said nothing to protest.

Ichigo sat at the side of the bed, after another day of rest, his back hunched, long sinewy legs hanging from its edge. His face was wracked from the harsh nights.

He did not respond to any of the question asked and he only glared and pulled away when his arms or body was grabbed. A hiss escaped his lips and his teeth were bared when anyone came too close, his spite for others growing strong. He curled together tighter on the bed, his face hidden between his knees. His arms were hard to move, as was his legs. Even his face felt numb and unresponsive. Ichigo wondered if all his muscles had disappeared and been replaced with the grey nutrients.

Ichigo curled together tighter, that ever eating, cold, tight and hollow feeling in his chest increased underneath his clothes and tried to suppress a whimper. Why was it not gone?

When he heard someone approach him he didn't look up, too consumed by his awful feelings. He did flinch when a light hand touched his knee and he slowly looked up. He was met with the Szayel's dark yellow eyes, which at least tried to look kind. But he couldn't let it get to him, his soul still tumbling down into that ever pulling darkness.

"Here, eat this."

The boy did not react any further and just stared at the spoon and cup that was placed on the bed in front of his pale feet. The Espada weren't trying to be nice to him, he knew full well they were simply forming him after their ways, taming and turning him into what they wanted him to be. And it was working more efficiently than he had hoped.

"It won't make you feel worse now, only better and a slight shiver is all that's expected, nothing more." said Szayel. "It's nothing to be afraid of."

Ichigo's expression did not change, as he slowly grabbed the spoon, hesitantly dipping it in the bowl and carefully bringing it to his mouth. He closed his lips around the revolting substance. He felt utterly defeated, doing what he had promised to refuse all on his own. But he had no strength to reject it with. He knew it was best to play a long.

His headache flared, biting harshly as a light spasm clashed through his body. The boy moaned softly, still he couldn't help but to be a bit surprised and perhaps pleased that nothing more happened as the sinking and hollow feeling in his chest was subdued. The tight feeling still remained and after taste in his mouth tasted like he had been drinking someone's bile.

The bowl and spoon was placed back on the bed and Ichigo's spidery hands moved up to cover his face, his breathing becoming irregular as he tried to not let the pain get to him. Ichigo kneaded his fingers into his eyes and temples. The headache was like an irritating fly, a large demonic one, buzzing around. Kind of there, in the background, but he couldn't help but pay attention to it.

"Is something wrong…?" Szayel suddenly asked, looking at the boy with studying eyes. He did not get any response, Ichigo acting as if he hadn't heard the arrancar's question. The man did leave, but only to come back moments later, handing Ichigo a small tin.

"Here's something for the headache, boy," He took the small tin Szayel had handed him. Aspirin.

Ichigo fiddled with the pill in his hand, unsure of what to do with it. The Espada's face softened and he placed his and on his chest and motioning that he was pushing something into it. Ichigo sighed, getting the message. Slowly he pushed the pill down the hole in his chest with his hand. He grimaced and turned his back to the pink haired man.

"I've decided I'm going to let you go now, Ichigo." The arrancar said, leaning slightly on the side of the soft bed. "I think I've done what I should these two weeks of having you here."

The arrancar didn't voice his concern of the lack of communication when he wasn't answered. But he dismissed it as a stubborn mind that wouldn't let defeat show. But the slim arrancar knew he had defeated the boy, his methods always worked. He had done it countless of times, on everyone in the palace, even himself. He knew what he did worked and would keep on working on anyone. There were no exceptions.

Only a small twitch in Ichigo's eyebrow showed that he had even reacted to the message. But as Szayel turned his back to the skinny boy, Ichigo slid out of the room carefully. Slowly he headed back to his small quarters and clamped his eyes shut as he dug his fingernails into his face, leaving crescent indents in his skin. A sudden fatigue moved over him, one that he realized had never really left in the first place.

The boy entered the darkness of his quarters and sat down slowly on the only chair. He felt many times older as he did, his sinewy legs protesting. He felt like an old, drained man as he lay his upper body over the table, arms in front of him as the tin he taken with him was toyed with. Soon enough it was opened and another white pill was pushed into his stomach by his hand.

And another. And another until his hand suddenly stopped moving, frozen as if someone else was in control.

'_I know I can't feel tha' headache of yours, King. Bu' I will most probably feel the effect of the medication if you don't stop stuffin__'__ ya face with em__'__.'_ Shirosaki's voice suddenly boomed painfully through Ichigo's numbing mind, the control the hollow had on his own hand not lessening.

Ichigo grimaced, surprised but not pleased that the hollow suddenly had decided to show up from the depths of his soul. He was sure the hollow was cowering away in some place where he could not feel what Ichigo himself was going thought. Hollow bastard, he did nothing but come in the worst of times to sound like a smartass.

The orange haired boy leaned back in the chair with a groan, a hand traveling over the rim of his chest, as if he wished to pull it wider. He waited for the effect of the pills he had taken to take place, small fantasies of seeing the aspirin spread through his body like a soothing fresh stream playing behind his eyelids. But the headache didn't pass.

Soon he found himself on the floor, his blunt nails digging into it. He gritted his teeth. Why wouldn't the pills work immediately? Another groan escaped him. He tried desperately to relax, but rest would not come to him and he nailed to edges of his hole after opening his jacket.

"Shiro, please make it go away, make it _stop_!" The boy cried out, begging.

'_I'm sorry, King, bu' I cannot he-'_ The hollow started, but was cut short by a cry of pain from his counterpart. He didn't resume talking as Ichigo squirmed into a fetal position on the floor, his head harshly grabbed. Several whimpers escaped him. He almost wanted to go back to the hospital wing and ask for a shot of anesthetics.

The boy was hyperventilating by now, short, quick gasps was hastily drawn into his open chest. It hurt, a lot. Pain was burning on the inside of his skull and there was nothing he could do about it. Ichigo didn't know for how long he lay there until it suddenly felt like lumps of pain in his brain were designating. A shaky sigh of relief escaped his trembling lips.

He moved slowly into his bed, and slumped into the covers, trying to relax. But it stayed tense, his fingers twitching uncontrollably at the rim of his hollow hole. It felt so tight, even if it was wide open. Would he even manage to sleep? It had been two weeks without proper rest now and a killing headache to thank for it. But he knew the pain in his head wasn't just from lack of sleep, he was getting it from the food; it was obvious.

The boy screamed into his pillow, frustration coursing through his every nerve and he pulled at the bed covers, feeling the fabric groan in protest. He eventually did manage to somewhat relax and he dared not to move from the position, afraid to trigger another burst of pain.

But soon Ichigo was back on his feet, to stride around aimlessly in the palace, hands in the holes of his pockets. The twitchiness in his limbs was not leaving even as he tried to walk it off. He prayed he would not bump into anyone, but he didn't dare to go outside of the palace, as he had recalled something like where there was artificial light, Aizen could see. He didn't want to be seen.

Still when he came to the very same balcony he had been forcefully dragged away from by a certain teal haired Espada, did he step out on it. Slowly he sat on its edge as he had done before, one leg dangling on the edge. He liked it there; the view was vast and powerful, the empty white sand never ending.

He heaved a low sigh, wondering what to do. There only seemed to be problems in his world, everything so god damn hard. His hand traveled through his hair, faint memories of it being a claw playing tricks on his mind as he dared not to scratch too hard. Soon it went back to push his eyes back into his skull. His other hand went down to his pocket again, fiddling with the tin there, but it was quickly raised to his face when he felt no light impacts from rattling pills. It wasn't long until Ichigo found himself back in the hospital wing of the palace, demanding more. The Espada asked no question, simply refilling the bottle the boy had handed him. Szayel had already figured that the headache wasn't normal.

The arrancar did however keep in mind that the boy was not like the rest, he was not the same creature as himself or a hollow, he was a Vizard and he had honestly no idea how the boy's would react to the treatment hollows were given. The kid seemed to have taken a traumatic touch to the forced feeding; it was obvious by the way he walked and acted; he seemed more scared and tried than before. So Szayel dared not to take the little comfort of the medication the kid had away from him just yet.

He watched as Ichigo's dreadful silhouette quickly exited again and once the boy was out of eyesight, he started shoving three new fresh pills into his chest and putting the tin back in his pocket. Ichigo wondered if they even helped at all.

As he walked back and entered his small chambers he subconsciously took the bottle out from his pocket again, emptying its content in his trembling hand. Some of the white medicine dropped to the floor, but he ignored them. Slowly his other hand let go of the bottle, and grabbed for the small items, stuffing himself full on the drug as he once again sank into a sitting position in the white armchair.

_One, two, three, four, five, six_

He pushed them all down.

_Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen_

No inner demon stopped him this time and something that could have been a pleased sigh escaped his lips. He pulled his legs close; up on the edge of the chair, his arms snaked around his knees, his face soon hidden between them. He sighed again, the darkness that covered him gentle to his sensitive eyes.

Slowly he drifted off, into calm darkness. Feeling like he was hovering, in black nothing, sleep lulling his senses, but never fully coming. But it was good enough, his mind loosing the feeling of his limbs.

But what felt like just a moment shortly after he was pulled back to reality. His arms were stiff, his toes cold and his body covered in a thin layer of sweat. Ichigo moaned, his pallid hand moving over his lips, he felt like he had been out for hours according to his body, but to his mind it had only been mere seconds. He rose from his chair, his entire body protesting and the room swayed unpleasantly around him and he stumbled and fell. A groan escaped him as he landed harshly on his side. Coughing violently, spasms moved though his gut and abdomen as gastric acid started rushing out of him.

It burned, yet Ichigo was too wasted to do much and his arms moved from the sides of his head wearily, dragging his body that felt heavier than a ton of bricks. He heaved himself toward his bed, pulling. Sleep would make everything better.

He was barely strong enough to let his legs push himself forward, but with great struggle he managed to get his still trembling body up the base of the single bed. He paused however at its legs, fatigue immense and he gasped, the acid taste in his mouth not leaving as it only got stronger with each cough.

Heaved his body up over the mattress, pulling at the covers, he tried to get up. With a low scream he managed to drag himself up, the world once again moving around wildly. The soft madras sank beneath him and soon more vomit sprayed from his chest, a sinking feeling making the sick feeling return. It felt like he was lying in shallow water. He was back on the hard floor in seconds.

Ichigo didn't know for how long he lay there, somewhere between unconsciousness and consciousness. Eventually, though, he forced himself up from the white floor on wobbling feet. He turned around wearily, leaning on the bed and pushing himself up to take shaky baby steps toward the toilet. He had to stop mid way to grab his head again, getting his surroundings secure before continuing into the bathroom. All the migraine medicine he had taken had only served to slow his reactions and make his thoughts all fuzzy and slow.

Ones there he lowered his head over the sink, clear cool water running out of the tap and he quickly let his head move under it; the fresh liquid washing away the terrible taste in his mouth. He was however careful not to swallow, he didn't want to get water into his open lungs.

Ichigo sat, with his chest heaving, on the toilet seat with a hand massaging his sweaty forehead and the other slowly drawing circles over his abdomen, trying to get the lingering pain to go away. Yet another moan escaped him and after a little bit of rest did he rise to his feet again. He looked around for something to clean his mess up with, but only found a single towel. It had to do.

He richly filled it with soap and water that was soon smeared over the floor and Ichigo roughly scrubbed at the spot, smearing and washing away the bile. It smelled terrible and it stung harshly at his nose.

It went away easier than the boy had thought, but it was still repulsive as he had no bucket to put the scooped up content in. He grimaced as he had to put the slimy substance in his hands and run with it back to the sink to wash it away. He had to go several times, every trip back and forth tiring, his knees creaking every time he rose from the ground.

The boy heaved a sigh as his eyes met with the bed, the same revolting gastric acid lying there and getting sucked up by the covers. He pulled a bit at said covers, not knowing what do to about it.

As he stood and mused about what to do, without getting caught with his little incident, did he turn around to watch the door slide open and a trolley was pushed inside.

They were going to give him something to eat already…? For how long had he been out?

The arrancar that pushed the trolley seemed to be alone and was dressed in a tight striped suit of sorts and a mask ornamented his upper face, ending at the base of his nose, so his mouth was still visible. It held a grin Ichigo couldn't stand.

"Aww, did you wet your bed?" Was the first thing that escaped his smug lips; not even a polite greeting. The man apparently wasn't like the other quiet, ever yielding servants, ready to do anything without question. He was a cocky bastard it seemed.

Ichigo only crossed his arms over his chest and frowned angrily at the man, his temper slowly rising. He was tired, exhausted, stiff, feeling sick and still had dizzy spells, who was he to come and mock him when he felt the worst?

"Hey, I'm here with your food," was slurred out from the arrancar and he literally threw the bowl and cutlery on to the table, not caring if it fell. Ichigo did not react and simply went back to stare at his messy bed.

"Hey! Are you even listening?"

Maybe if he simply put the messy cloth out side the door and went to get new ones where Ulquiorra had showed him they were? Not that he remembered.

"Hey, if you don't eat this food, and I come back with it still full, they'll fuckin' beat me up!" His voice was suddenly desperate. Did he honestly think Ichigo cared? The arrancar was suddenly in his face, eye gleaming with harsh demand from below the mask.

"Listen to me, you punk!" The arrancar's arms shot out, pushing against the remaining chest muscles on Ichigo's upper body. "Eat the damn food!"

But before the servant could do anything else Ichigo's hand fisted in his hair and soon his skull was heaved downward into the table. Ichigo's arm moved as if on its own, sudden anger rushing though him. Again and again the servants head was slammed against the table's edge. He was sick of all the demands and constant urging to cast him in their form. Angry thoughts that he refused to yield any longer seared through him.

A small spark suddenly moved through the boy; a want to see blood as he heard something crack and high yelp of pain. He flung the servant away, to glare at the table he thought would be covered in the red substance for him to lick away, but he saw nothing.

The arrancar took no chances and got to his feet as fast as he could, even when his broken nose throbbed and dulled his mind while Ichigo was busy growling in suppressed anger. He was out of the mad boy's quarters in a matter of seconds, but he was still too slow for the orange haired kid not to notice.

Ichigo was after him, running on shaky legs but fast nevertheless, he had little that stopped his light body from running fast, his long legs taking twice as big steps as the cocky arrancar. It wasn't long until his spidery hand grabbed around striped clothes to throw the man into the side of the wall. Ichigo didn't know where his sudden strength came from, probably from anger, but quiet frankly he did not care.

The servant was screaming, doing his best to get away, but the iron hand Ichigo had on his clothes wouldn't let go. The boy's other fist soon met with the others screaming face; the mask that covered it slowly cracking under the harsh punches.

"P-Ple… AH! Please stop! St-t-t-…!" The servant managed to blurt out, but it went to deaf ears as an imaginary pulse and the sound from a temporary tinnitus running much louder inside Ichigo's mind. Soon the mask would split and the servant would be no more.

But before Ichigo could deliver the final blow, a hand grabbed his own clothes instead and shoved his pale face into the wall painfully. Soon with a rough yank Ichigo was pulled away from it and with a yelp he landed against the other wall in the narrow corridor. Ichigo looked up, growling angrily at the one who had attacked.

His eyes met with several, lined up men. They all wore the same kind of mask and uniform except for one in the front. The servant seemed just as afraid of the men as he had been of Ichigo.

"Kurosaki Ichigo." A deep voice escaped the unmoving mask.

Ichigo didn't reply, eyeing the solid group of men as he whipped away imaginary blood from his swollen lip with the back of his hand. This smelled bad.

"You don't attack the personnel; attacking each other is strictly forbidden and will be dealt with if disobeyed." What seemed to apparently be the leader barked angrily. His mask was different from the rest and his hand was on the hilt of his sword, ready to be drawn. "Lord Aizen will not tolerate your disobedience much longer."

Ichigo's hands balled into bony fists and he bared his teeth dangerously, but before he had the chance to do anything more than to look threatening, a foot came from the side, to hit him square in the face, sending his head slamming into the wall behind him. He cried out, but he was gone from the ground before another foot could come down at him, his body moving in a blur to everyone's eyes.

At least he thought he was, but before he got the chance to even land in his leap, did a hand grab around his bony leg, twisting him around mid air, sending his body reeling right back into the wall he had just been at.

If he had owned any blood in his body, it would have been smeared over the now cracked white marble wall from his face as he slid down to land on his side. His shoulder twitched in pain along with his face, his mouth hanging open in a dazed manner. What had happened?

He groaned and slowly pushed himself to the side, to lie on his back. He stared blankly in the air, his mind still trying to grasp his surroundings. His face was numb, his left eye clogging up. But when he heard a sword being drawn his mind kicked back into gear, his body flying up and Ichigo pushed himself to his feet in a liquid movement.

He flung out with a fist, slamming it into one of the closest men. The arrancar fell to the ground instantaneously, knocked out cold. The boy did however not get the chance to show off any other battle movements, because in mere seconds after his attack, the group of men was all over him; kicking violently at the boy's limbs. Each kick was aimed to hurt, slamming hard enough to crack bones on a normal human.

Ichigo's forearms were over his face, instinct moving his body into a protective ball. He screamed as feet came from all sides, crashing into his ribs, hip and abdomen; everywhere. His arms and legs were reddening by the seconds. Ichigo was about to panic, memories of former days flashing over his mind and with a holler, spirit energy pushed out of him in a shock wave.

But the men attacking seemed to have expected it, as they immediately countered with forceful pushes of their own energy, neutralizing the boy's. Soon he was beaten into nothing and darkness overcame him, as the strength he had gotten from his anger was gone and nothing left behind.

Ichigo woke up in his quarters, his body feeling swollen and stiff. He groaned, a hand traveling up to touch a swollen eye, he could hardly see anything with it. His skin felt puffed-up, hard and was over sensitive around it. His lower lip was just the same and he wondered if the former stitches there had reopened.

The boy sat up and grabbed his head in his hands. How stupid had he been? Attacking someone inside the palace and expect to get away with it… He hit his own head. _Stupid, stupid, stupid…_

He lay back down on the floor, his head feeling heavier than a stone. He crawled in under the bed again, the greater darkness there soft to his senses. He moaned huskily in pain, why wouldn't the stupid pain cease to be?

The boy wondered why no one came anymore to feed him, or barge his door in to demand something after two days had passed and nothing happened. Ichigo had expected to get hanged upside own in one of the cells in some sort of medieval fashion for his actions. But no one ever came; no one entered his room or even demanded him to eat.

Not that he minded being alone, he cherished that more than anything.

Perhaps they had concluded that he wouldn't let himself be broken anymore than he already had been so they would let him stay in the room anyway, since no one was occupying it? But he doubted it, Aizen probably wouldn't let a vermin live in his house at any cost. He was going to be used he knew that, he just wondered when the strike and demand would fall.

Ichigo hardly ever left his quarters after the mob attack. He was mostly just hiding in the dark under his bed, trying not to slam his head apart, break the headache out of his skull. He groaned, clutching his head and pulling in fingers along it, leaving red marks behind. Why wouldn't it pass?

He trashed about, curling on the floor, eyes bloodshot and pupils dilated as he clawed harder and harder at his own skin. He twisted and turned, body straining. He didn't know how many headache pills he had taken, but he knew better than to drown the whole bottle again, even if it was more than tempting.

Ichigo had tried to do other things, just to try and get his mind of the pain, as clawing at his hole in the chest wasn't making things better, even when had put his entire hand in there in an attempt to widen it. Instead he made his bed until there wasn't a single line visible on the sheets to only redo it again, countless of times.

But not only his mind was screaming in agony, his skin seemed to crawl, twist and bend around him, as if it yearned for something, his chest no longer screaming to be closed but to be subdued and reset, to make the damn tight feeling lessen. The eating, cold feeling grew stronger for every day that passed.

He had to eat, he knew it. But he'd rather starve himself after all the humiliating things that had happened with the substance. But eventually he got up, dragging his pathetic excuse for a body out of his quarters.

The orange haired teen strode down then great halls, trying to remember the way to the dinner hall, but like before everything looked the same. The only place he knew the way to was the hospital. But when he turned a corner his eyes widened.

He almost bumped right into the group of men that had beaten him up days before. He was pointed at and quickly surrounded. Was he going to be punished again? Right there in the damn corridor for everyone to see?

His eyes narrow not sure what to expect, he couldn't fight them and he knew it.

"Kurosaki Ichigo." The same deep voice escaped the unmoving mask once again of the groups leader. Ichigo grunted in reply.

"The nutrients Lord Aizen uses are to make sure there is no killing of one another." He started. "But you still don't seem to be able to control yourself or follow simple rules. He will not have that in his palace."

That was true, he hadn't even managed to stay out of trouble in tree weeks… He looked uncertainty at the leader. Was he going to get thrown out?

"We have been ordered to send you back to Earth on a simple mission for you to learn how to maintain self control." There was pause, to which Ichigo did not know what to except. His senses were jumpy, muscles tense, ready to bolt if he had to. "If you cannot control yourself, Aizen doesn't even want you; he is not interested in savage beasts. He has no use for you then, so prove that you are more than just an animal. If you can go by undetected and stay with living people without attacking, perhaps he will grant you the privilege to stay."

Ichigo was taken a bit by surprise, he hadn't expected that. Fuck, he would rather be thrown out of the palace and live in the desert than in the real world. He couldn't go back. He would most probably die.

"We will keep track on you with the collar you are wearing and if we see that you are somewhere you are not supposed to be we will come and silence you."

A white, small mobile phone was suddenly shoved into his hand. Ichigo glared at it as if it was an insult. What was the meaning of this?

"You have been ordered by the Lord to monitor the reapers for one week as you go, you will not simply drawl around on Earth. Use the device's only number to send back messages of their location." The grim looking mask bearer instructed. "You are not allowed to draw any attention to yourself, thus you will not be allowed to consume any souls or flare with your spirit energy. You'll bring enough nutrients with you from here, so you won't have to eat souls."

A round, rather small container was handed to him along with a pouch that wasn't much bigger than his thump. He took it reluctantly. So he was going to put to use now? Too see if he wasn't useless?

"You will try to get your hands on your corporeal body, it will work for your advantage; it's harder to locate along with all the other humans in the world than a single hollow or shinigami. You are instructed to keep the body safe as it works as a cloaking device, to hinder your detection from the reapers."

"Guess I don't have any damn choice in the matter…?" He growled and backed away; feeling rather defenseless as he knew each one of the men wore swords. His question went unheard, or simply ignored.

"The small pills that you will find in the pouch are Emergency soul pills, only to be used if you are in a hurry to be removed from your body. But be cautious, as it will trigger a running sprint of the body, to make it get away if possible. Only use them in an emergency."

Ichigo didn't know what to say, to be grateful for them or not, as he felt the round things move between his fingers in the soft pouch. He really didn't want to go back to the real world where the shinigami were still after him.

Four of the many masked men moved forward and grabbed Ichigo, holding him firmly where he stood and the leader moved closer, his eyes still hidden behind the deep holes of his mask. A buzzing sound was heard and the black portal was effortlessly opened by the masked man.

Ichigo was forcefully pushed inside the portal, his thrashing about not seeming to help the least as the blackness seemed to suck him in like a greedy mouth.

**End of Chapter**


	18. Return

**Chapter 18: Return**

A car roared past, Ichigo's clothes forcefully slamming at his sides as they were caught in the draught from the speeding vehicle. Ichigo screamed, more than shocked at where he had been sent. Why did they have to dump him on the bloody highway!

He quickly jumped away, just narrowly avoiding a black car, the heel on his left boot scraping against its tire. Rolling out of the way, Ichigo harshly landed back first in the verge. Rocks sharply pushed at his ribs and back and his head spun. He dropped the box with his nutrients that almost opened on the impact and the phone bumped off and landed somewhere between rocks.

Ichigo slowly rose from the ground, small stones and grass sticking to his hands and hair. He brushed it off slowly, his mind still dizzy. He glared angrily at the highway, but quickly looked away and clamped his eyes shut tightly. He had forgotten what it looked like.

He thought the heavenly light and sweet smell would have disappeared along with the hunger. But it hadn't, not at all. An urge to jump and attack the nearest car filled him; to forcefully tear the door off, crawl inside and rip the driver apart, all to see the blood flow. Ichigo whined loudly and bit down hard over some of his fingers to will the evil thoughts away.

The boy shivered and kept his sight away from the cars and looked out across graceful fields instead. Snow had fallen over the land as a thin fine powder that had coated everything a long with frost. Winter seemed to have fully come to his home town, not that he knew if it had been there long. He didn't even know what month, day or time it was.

Ichigo settled with heading home, he wasn't sure what to do once there, but it was better than no destination. He ran along the road after grabbing his container and phone. Fast and far he ran. He had to stop several times to try and remember on which road he really was on as he was not used to running along those roads, only going on them by car.

He kept on running, his pace surprisingly fast, but he dismissed it as he no longer had to carry his heavy cleaver on his back, its lost weight giving a strong speed boost. But Ichigo didn't appreciate it, not at all; he'd rather be slower and have something to attack with, than being pretty much defenseless. His mind traveled to the thought of the claws he had once possessed, his finger twitching at the memory.

But it was pushed aside as Ichigo saw his father and sister's house come into view. He jumped off the current rooftop he was upon, gracefully landing a couple of hundred meters away from his own. As Ichigo drew nearer to his home, did he notice something he had not noticed before.

The smell. The place seemed to reek with the smell of a shinigami. But there was something odd about it; it reminded him of his own spirit energy's smell, at least of the little that still remained shinigami. Plus he felt no spirit energy, only the scent.

He loomed closer and he lowered himself to hide inside the hedge like a cat, leering at the house. Who was in there?

Heading into the garden ever so slowly, Ichigo knew full well that if there was a shinigami inside he could be seen. Maybe it was Rukia? But he would have felt her and it didn't smell like her, not that he had really been able to smell any shinigami before. He drew nearer, entering the small garden and moved to see if he could spot someone from the windows.

What he saw, when he moved some shrubbery away from blocking his view, was not what he had expected.

'It's dad, Shiro! Shit! It's our father, he's a fucking shinigami!' Ichigo screeched to his hollow, having to voice his discovery to someone, anyone.

'_What!'_ The white replica bellowed back, voice just as chocked.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He had no clue on what to do now. Unexpectedly white matter started to move from his chest and out of his throat and he started to cough violently. It happened the same time he felt Shirosaki come up from the depths of his soul.

'Stop that!' Ichigo spat, trying to claw the mask away. He absolutely didn't want to be seen with it on; at least not yet.

'_What! I want to see too!' _Shirosaki answered just as fiercely, trying to settle down in the front of the brain, next to his king.

Ichigo growled, but stopped trying to smear the mask off his face. The mask wouldn't stop anyhow and it seemed to stop over half his face.

'_How do you know!' _Shirosaki asked his host and Ichigo's gaze went back to the matter at hand. His father was watching television with his daughters.

'There, look at his eyes.' Ichigo instructed. His eyes moved to get a better look. His father's eyes were shining like light bulbs in the dark room. Bright; pretty golden colour. Shinigami. There was no doubt about it, the smell and that heavenly glow couldn't be anything else.

'_But why is the smell only obvious from such a short distance and no spirit energy noticeable?' _Shirosaki asked, sounding thoughtful.

'I-I don't know! Hell, how could I!' Ichigo muttered as he drew back deeper into the bushes when Isshin has gotten up from the sofa. He was however back quickly again with a bowl. Popcorn, Ichigo realised rather slowly and felt like he was spying on his family. Biting his lip and glanced upward, toward his old room.

'How do you reckon we get the body out?'

'_So you don't intend to stay in the house?'_

'Are you stupid? He's a shinigami! He probably has orders to kill us as soon as we enter the house!' Ichigo spat at his hollow, getting worried on where the hell he would stay. Sure, he had money, but he didn't know exactly how long it would take before his new cell phone would call and say someone had been sent to take him back, he knew he couldn't trust the people in Hueco Mundo's word, so a hotel was out of the question and he didn't know of any cheap youth hostels. Fuck, he didn't wish to be a homeless person again. He had had enough of that a long time ago.

'_Fine. Maybe we can sleep at one of your pathetic old classmate's places. We'll deal with where to sleep later. We need to get the damn body out first!' _Shirosaki mumbled pensively. _'The body may be long dead, it should be if our father hasn't taken care of it. Go check first.'_

Ichigo could have sworn his heart would have skipped a beat if he still had one. He hadn't thought about that at all! The boy hurried away inside the bushes, his mind growing anxious and worried. He stepped out into the open at the side of his house. With a single easy jump he was balancing at the edge of his window. He quickly opened it and silently stepped inside.

A sigh of relief escaped his pale lips when his eyes met with a body in the bed. At first he had not recognized the body as his own, but soon realized it had been because the face had been blocked from view by tubes, two white and a blue one. There was hardly anything left to call a body under the covers…

Ichigo quickly stepped closer, placing his box and phone on the floor before his hands were tugging at the cords without thinking. All he thought about was the dreadful memory of being force-fed in Hueco Mundo.

'_Stop it, King! Stop!'_ The hollow's bright call made him stop his actions.

'_You know you just can't tear the cords inside the body away with damn force! You will hurt it. It's not being fed, look at the pumping motion of the machines and chest. It's in a respirator; the machine is breathing for it since we aren't there to do it."_

"I know what a fucking respirator is!" Ichigo quickly retorted, not realizing he was snarling it out loud. It was ignored by the hollow.

Closing his eyes, Ichigo took a shaky breath in an attempt to relax and slowly opened his eyes again. He knew he could disconnect the body without the help of his father… His father…

The thought of his only remaining parent was quickly shoved away. He has to focus on getting the body out of the house before the movie ended and his family headed upstairs. His chocolate eyes studied the plastic cords and he tried to remember what he had read on how to connect or disconnect someone from being intubicated. But as he was much too roused to focus did the boy simply settle with taking out the small once first and lastly the big one, nothing more complicated right? But as he grabbed them he stopped himself again.

Wouldn't the machines start beeping or making lots of sounds? Especially the heart monitor. He knew full well that all the medical equipment was connected to the hospital parts downstairs and that would mean his family would be altered despite them watching the movie.

_Damn it._ Ichigo nor Shirosaki knew what to do. His family, it seemed, would have to notice him being in the house to steal his own body from them.

Perhaps he could run away fast enough? He doubted that he could run away carrying the body without his father seeing his white uniform. He didn't dare to flash step away with his body, as it seemed to have starved while he had been gone, and looked more than fragile. It didn't look much different from his spirit body; if not worse save from the scars. He couldn't have his father see his white clothes. So not entering the body was not an option.

The boy cursed again and scratched his messy hair and felt his fingers getting stuck in it. He growled. He would simply have to chance and as quickly as possible disconnected his body from the machines, enter it, jump out the window and run as fast as he could.

'_Go for it!'_ Shirosaki suddenly bellow from within his skull and Ichigo's hands moved quickly but carefully over his human body.

The blaring of the heart monitor was much louder than he had expected it to be and without thinking he hissed and barred his teeth at it before the dove for his body. The entering was harsh and painful after such long time away from it.

His body shook uncontrollably after laying still for so long and Ichigo gasped and coughed. He desperately tried to get up from the bed, his hollow shouting at him to hurry. He fumbled and fell on weak, deteriorated legs, the nightstand loudly falling to the floor as he had tried to support himself on it.

It didn't take long until he heard heavy steps on the stairs and someone screaming. His father. Ichigo crawled desperately after the window's edge, his eyes watering and vision fuzzy.

"Ichigo!" He could hear his father's call. "Ichigo, don't go!" He sounded desperate.

Ichigo's bony hand was over the window's edge, his upper body soon following. The cold winds outside bit at his flustered skin.

'_He's coming King! Go, go, g-!'_

The door flew open and Ichigo screamed as he tried to heave his body over the edge, but found it to be much harder than he had thought it would be.

"Ichigo! Please don't go! I won't hurt you! I promise! Please stay!" The boy faltered, the desperation in his fathers voice was something he could not remember ever hearing. "Please, my son! Stay with your family! We won't hurt you!"

Ichigo froze for a second, but then moved his much too skinny body back into the heat of the house and stood on shaky legs, facing his father. He didn't leave the windows side.

"Back off! Don't touch us, _shinigami!_" Ichigo hissed as Isshin slowly approached with an out stretch hand.

His father stepped back, worried over the sinister, menacing voice of his son and did no further attempts to go closer. Isshin stared at him, a surprised look moving over his features.

"What happened to you…?" He asked carefully.

Ichigo looked down on his naked upper body. He had forgotten that whatever was on the soul body reflected on the human one and the other way around. His body was covered in large and numerous scars and to his shock a big, red, irritated ring had formed on his skin where his hollow hole was. No wonder it hurt to breathe so badly.

"Uh…" Ichigo looked around himself without turning his head; trying to find something to hide in. He grabbed for the quilt that lay on his bed, quickly wrapped it around himself and moved closer to the window. "Nothing happened," he growled darkly.

"Please stay," Isshin begged, unsure on how to act.

Ichigo bit is lip. He stepped a little bit further into the room, his father's expression immediately softening.

'_What are you doing…!' _The hissing voice of the inner demon questioned fiercely.

'Maybe we should stay here after all…'

'_Why? You just decided it was best to leave – he is a shinigami.'_

'Yes, I know that! But he's our _dad_…'

'_But he's a_ _shinigami fo' crying out loud! He might as well been ordered to keep you here if you ever were to come back, which is now!'_

'I know, _I know._ I said that myself. But what… what if he's telling the truth? Look at him! Goat-face can't lie that well, you would be able to tell from a mile!'

'_Oh really, then why didn't you know he was a shinigami…?'_

'That wasn't lying; he simply never told us…' Ichigo thought back irritatingly, but it was clear to him that he doubted his own choice of words.

"Ichigo…" The voice of his father made them stopped the bickering. "I won't hurt you… I can't, not after Masaki gave her life saving yours."

Ichigo couldn't stop the memories from flooding from the mention of his mother, memories of a happy and complete family; a loving family as his father always said. It was something he had forgotten and was now suddenly desperately searching for.

He wanted his family back. He had once promised to protect it had he not? That was how the chain reaction had started, wasn't it…? To keep that already shattered family together in its fragile bonds. And what had he done, if not worsened it with his absence…?

Isshin watched his son lose himself in thought, the blanket around the skinny form tightening by the seconds, the already pale knuckles turning white. He saw the way his face softened, but still looked grim. The eye sockets in Ichigo's skull were much too visible, the cheekbone line so much sharper in his face than before, his hairs colour nowhere near as bright… Isshin could feel his heart twist in his chest, what had happened to his son…? He looked so worn, so dried out and exhausted, like tiredness grew in his very skin and bone.

Suddenly the brown eyes locked with his and Ichigo's eye seemed angry again, the familiar scowl moving back into place, but not as fiercely as it once had been. Ichigo wrapped the blanket closer around his body, growing uneasy under his fathers gaze. That studying, calculating look in his glowing eyes… He felt like he was being searched for a weakness.

"Leave us!" He suddenly barked with out thinking, startling himself as well as Isshin.

Isshin straitened and saw his son almost fall over from where his stood, but was stopped in his actions to help with a firm, angry glare that seemed to threaten to hurt him if he helped. His son barred his teeth at him.

His son was like a wounded animal. Scared and hostile even toward the one trying to help, threatening to kill anything that approached.

"Get out!" Ichigo's voice cut through his thoughts like a sharp knife. Isshin decided it was best to leave. It seemed that Ichigo had decided to stay and that would have to do. If he was going to be kind was another matter. Isshin left with a forced smile, telling son that he could just call if he needed anything. Worry knotted in Isshin's intestines, telling him not to leave his son again, as he knew it meant he might loose him.

Ichigo watched his father leave and a deep sigh escaped him. He was worried, his decision to stay not entirely based on feelings for his family. He could hardly move. He wasn't doing any good, not after joining with his body. It barely held him sitting; it was trembling from the effort. He needed to rest and regain strength in his atrophied limbs before he could even think about leaving.

The boy moved a hand over his left arm, feeling the pulse beneath the skin. It made him shudder; it was an odd feeling now. So odd, it made his skin crawl and fingers twitch at the rhythm of the beat. It mesmerized him in such a way that he couldn't help but to rest his hand against his chest muscle the heart rested beneath. He listened and felt it, the pulse of life.

Shuddering, Ichigo pulled his hand away and opened his eyes. His mind swam, a dizzy spell hitting him and leaned his head into his hands. Wearily he massaged his temples and wondered if he would get used to his own heart again.

Sighing, Ichigo reached for the box next his bed but quickly drew back his arm underneath the blanket from the cold.

The boy slowly got up and wobbled over to the window to close it and warped his quilt better around his skinny body. He huddled into it, his skin bumpy all over as he rubbed his hands over his arms.

Taking the steel container in his hands and Ichigo opened the hard and secure lid with some difficulty. The grey substance lay inside, as dead and boring as it seemed to always have been. Realising he had nothing to eat it with he settled with using his hands.

It was as horrible as before, a short burst if shuddering pleasure that immediately died, harshly and knowing. It hurt to eat it in the human body it seemed; the tremors that passed along his body painful and left him even more tired than before. But he tried to ignore it as he leaned down at the side of his bed, carefully sliding his container in underneath it, hiding his food.

He had had to eat it. It had been so hard not to lash out at his father. All that was hidden beneath that skin, that sweet blood and life, to see it flow free all for his to take… what he wouldn't give for it…

Shoving the bad thoughts away, the boy grabbed his phone and searched the pants he was wearing for pockets to tuck it in, but the soft sleeping pants didn't have any. He grumbled as he changed into a pair of jeans. They weren't tight anymore, hanging loose on all places.

Lying down on the bed, Ichigo sighed, rubbing his eyes and curling into a ball the best he could. His eyes slid shut and he didn't know for how long he lay there, just feeling the beating of his heart as it was something he had never felt before. It was hard to lay still with it, the pounding harsh and almost painful in his ribcage. He couldn't lie still.

Ichigo slowly stalked into his bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him. He was startled when his brown eyes met with his own reflection. His face was wracked with unnatural sleep and a strange gleam hinted a growingly odd behavior. Perhaps it was the monster within that shone through…

He looked older, but not in a good way. He seemed weary, as if he had been working outside for much too long in harsh winds that had torn at it. He twisted his face, the skin stiff and dry. He rubbed his hand against his chin and too clear cheekbones, feeling the stubbly beard tearing at his fingers. He frowned and reached for the electric razor. He flicked the on button and nothing happened.

A low growl escaped him in irritation. Damn thing. He bent down, reaching for the shaving lather instead and smeared it into his hands and rubbed it over his cheeks and chin with a sigh. He hated shaving.

Ichigo opened the cabinet, thankful that his reflection slipped out of sight as he did. His eyes met with all sorts of medicine, all aligned perfectly in rows like proud soldiers. He sighed at the sight; he had forgotten those, all the headache pills, the line going stronger the further to the right they went. There was all kinds of medicine against pain, sleep and even some for his psyche; hallucinations - paranoia. All from his days as a shinigami, when there hardly was time to sleep or rest, only the duty to cut away monsters that roamed the earth. Not that he had gotten and sleep after it, if only less.

He slammed the cabinet shut once he found the razor and one of the plastic tins. How foolish he had been back then, so blessed with ignorance.

The razor was grabbed tighter and he started to cut of the small stands of hair away from his throat and face. He slid the blade along the skin, the lather growing thick at the upper side of the metal piece. Ichigo cleaned it off under the crane, the cool water washing it away. He was swift, skillful with a blade even this small.

Once he was done, he cleaned off his throat with a soft towel. He shoved two of the white pills down his throat without water, slowly making a face and headed out of the toilet after glaring at his darkly rimmed eyes and dried out face. He almost slammed the door into his youngest sister's face as he did.

"Sorry…! Didn't see you Yuzu…" He stuttered in surprise with a pathetic raw voice; looking down at his sister, whom looked a bit too happy.

"Brother! I'm so happy you're back! I made you some soup! Dad said you might be hungry." The small girl beamed, stepping aside so Ichigo could get past and go get what she had so carefully made for her brother.

Food. Ichigo's mind stirred, soup meant eating, eating meant pleasure and pleasure meant ecstasy. He hurried downs the stairs on clumsy legs, falling half way down but ignoring the pain. The smell of warm cooking filled his nostrils.

Ichigo poured the cup full with the thick soup. He eyed it greedily and started shoving it down his throat. He didn't care that it ran down his chin. He wanted ecstasy and he wanted it now, so long without it and such terrible treatments to get rid of the need, and yet he could not resist it the least when it was within his grasp. He grunted when nothing happened.

The boy grabbed the yet another filled cup and swallowed it all. He cursed when nothing happened yet again. Ichigo opened the fridge. He stared at the groceries. Some of this damn food _had _to do something. He grabbed whatever he found, sauce, raw meat, potatoes, strawberries, yogurt. He ended up getting most of the liquid food over his shirt as he forcefully pushed it into his mouth. He barely took time to chew it.

He was starting to feel sick and his lungs hurt even more than before. Would ecstasy never come? He began to wonder.

Just eating the puniest soul would at least make his blood flow faster even if there was no ecstasy. Now he was starting to get slightly dizzy and his stomach was beginning to hurt. He kept on eating nevertheless, in hope that maybe he had to eat more in the human body for it to take affect. His craving for life forced him to keep going. He needed his rush now.

"Ichigo…? What are you doing!" His sister's voice rang through the room. Ichigo turned around. His face was covered in smeared food. He swallowed sheepishly.

"We're eating." He bluntly answered and went back to stuff himself with the current cold meat he was holding. He heard Yuzu walk up next to him. Food remains were lying on the floor. Ichigo ignored her and grabbed some butter, and ate it all just as it was.

Ichigo suddenly rushed to the toilet, his hands pushed against his mouth. Yuzu could hear him vomit loudly from the small room. Her father came into the kitchen and looked at her.

"Ichigo just ate everything we had in the fridge!" Yuzu answered his unasked question.

"What…?" He breathed and walked to the toilet. He knocked on its door. "Are you alright, Ichigo?" The sound of his son vomiting answered him.

"G-go away…" A nauseated voice replied a few minutes later.

Ichigo lay shaking on the floor; he had gotten vomit on his clothes, legs, the floor and the on the ring of the toilet. Not much of the food had actually come in the toilet. Thick lumps stuck to his green shirt. He moaned. He felt dizzy and tired. But to his shame the rush of adrenaline and pain of vomiting had made him feel so very much alive and he had liked it. Compared to this every action in the soul and been dull and nothing, as if he had been constantly anesthetized.

Breathing become even harder and he sat up and gasped for air. It didn't help and after he had taken off his sticky shirt, he rubbed against the red ring that burned over his chest. He clenched his teeth together and closed his eyes tightly. His lungs burned and he tried not to scream. It felt like his lungs were trying to make a hole on their own. But since that was impossible in the real world, nothing happened except pain.

He loudly gasped for air again, with his mouth now wide open in an attempt not to suffocate. It didn't work very well. Black dots danced in front of his eyes. After thinking that he was going to suffocate, he heard the lock to the bathroom door click open from the outside. His father squatted down beside him and grabbed his shoulder. His face was filled it concern.

Not wasting any time, his father pushed his own fingers down Ichigo's throat, to see if there was anything stuck. Ichigo's eyes widened and he ended up vomiting again, but this time managing to throw up in the toilet.

Ichigo couldn't breathe any better, panic starting to coil inside of him. As his father noticed that food wasn't the problem, he quickly lifted Ichigo into his arms, pushed past Yuzu and Karin that were both watching with wide, worried eyes and took Ichigo to the hospital area of their house.

He placed his son on one of the beds. Isshin pushed slightly against the red patch on his son's chest. Ichigo gave out a strangled cry and his face distorted with pain.

Isshin turned around and grabbed something; a pair of long transparent tubes that were connected in the middle. As his father grabbed the end of the stings of the nasal cannula and started moving it toward Ichigo's face. Knowing what it was, Ichigo tried to get away. He really didn't want half a meter tube up his nose, being able to breath or not. It gave him unpleasant visions from Szayel's treatment.

But there was no escape as his father grabbed his arm and pulled him back down on the bed and started to slowly push the small tubes up Ichigo's nose. He screamed in pain again, but didn't dare to move anymore, as it would only increase the pain. The transparent tubes made their way through his breathing canals and down into his lungs. It hurt so very badly. Why couldn't his father sedate him, or anything?

But suddenly as Ichigo heard a button being clicked, he could breath. Oxygen flowed from a breathing apparatus that stood next to the bed. Small gasps of oxygen were pumped into his lungs. He felt relieved and dried his eyes from pain filled tears that had escaped.

"Ichigo…" His father said in a serious tone. "Where did that red area on your chest come from?"

Ichigo didn't know what to answer; he was a bit dumbstruck at the question, his lip moving up and down uncertainly. He turned around, his scowl once again firm, his back turned to Isshin.

"It's none of your business." Ichigo stated and sat up in the bed. "You can take this out now, its fine." He said just as flatly.

"Don't be so hasty Ichigo; you still need some rest."

As if he hadn't heard his fathers warning, he started to pull out the tube himself, a gagging noise escaping him as he did.

"Ichigo!" Isshin tried to stop in son, but failed as Ichigo yanked harder and with a yelp and a fresh nose bleed it was out. "Look what you did! You have to be careful!"

"Fuck that! We're not gonna lie there like some weakling!" Ichigo shouted, storming off, dizzy spells hitting him as he wobbled up the stairs and into his room. He smeared the blood way from his nose, his breath harsh now, his pupils starting to dilate. He glared at himself in the mirror again, a clenched fist soon slamming against it, the glass shattering.

His hands moved through his hair as he walked back and forth in the narrow toilet. How was he going to fix that now…? How was he going to fix anything? He kicked thoughtlessly at the toilet, pain searing through his leg unexpectedly and he cursed loudly again.

Why was he being so careless? His mind was racing; he was doing everything wrong, all because of the scent of a little smell of blood. His hands clawed at his head and limped out of the toilet, into his room, a low growl rumbling in his throat. He limped over to his drawer – he needed to put on new clothes, anything to try to stop the urges to kill away.

He wrenched it open in anger, too hard and fast and soon the drawer was on the floor and his feet. Ichigo screamed and in another burst of clamped up anger he tore viciously at every piece of cloth he could find, throwing them around, all over the room.

A knock was heard on the door. Ichigo froze, swallowing hard and quickly yanked on the closest shirt he could find. But soon his anger burst was out again, the small will power constraining of it gone.

"Fuck off!" He roared. "You mother-fucking lying piece of shit!" He threw a green t-shirt at the door. "We hate you!" He stomped over to it, shouting through the wood. "Why did you never tell us? After all we've been through, you did nothing! We _hate _you!" He banged a first against the door, some part of him not daring to wrench the door open to launch out in violence at Isshin. It was his father after all. However a light crying voice could he heard from the other side instead, running away from the door.

_Oh god, it was Yuzu,_ Ichigo quickly realized. What had he done? He sank down onto the floor, his back against the door, regretting his actions more than anything, not daring to step out until his temper subsided.

The young girl stormed into her shared room, where Karin was sitting, her face twisting into surprise and worry as her sister rushed inside.

"What happened Yuzu! I could hear Ichigo screaming, was it at you?" Karin quickly embraced her and sat her down on the side of her bed.

"H-h-he was so angry! Told me I-I was lying and did nothing!" She stuttered out, tears streaming down her small face.

"There, there Yuzu." Karin said normally as her hands rubbed her sisters back. "I'm sure he didn't mean you. Ichigo has been gone and through a lot…" She paused and moved so she could see her sister's eyes. "That guy needs some time to get used to this place again – Just give him some time." She didn't want to say it out loud but she too missed her cocky brother and was worried about him just as much as her.

"Karin… Will the bad men come and take big brother's soul away again? I don't want to loose him ever again! His body just lying there… as if he was in a coma…" Her lip trembled dangerously once more before fresh tears fell from her eyes. "Or dead…" The last part was only a whisper.

"What?" the word suddenly came from outside their room, Ichigo's solemn frame standing in the small creak of the open door. He looked sad. "I'm sorry Yuzu, didn't mean to shout at you…" A low voice escaped him, but he stood still, not moving from the spot. He didn't dare to enter after what he had done.

Abducted…? Was it another lie from his father…? It had to be. He guessed he had to play along with his sister, not to cause them anymore harm. It was better if they believed in the lame lie that the lying shinigami came up with.

"Its alright, I'm fine. Nothing happened." He mumbled. But Karin was soon up on her feet, stomping nearer, looking agitated.

"'I'm fine?' 'Nothing happened?'" Her voice was harsh but clearly on the brink of crying. "Goat-face told us your very soul had been taken away! He had no reason for it, but he sat for hours with the police, reporting you missing!" Tears were forming in her eyes. "Even if he knew they couldn't help, we were all desperate!" She hissed out, her hands pulling at his loose sitting shirt.

"You were gone for six months! Don't tell me you're fine, I can see that you're not! You just can't be fine after something like that!" The heavy tears rolled down her face silently. "What did they do to you! What happened!" To Ichigo's surprise Karin was suddenly hugging him, tightly and detrimentally as if she would never let him go ever again. "I've missed you so much, Ichigo… I've missed you so much…" Her voice trailed off, the harshness in it long gone. Yuzu soon followed, hugging her brother's skinny waist as well.

Hesitantly Ichigo placed his hands on his sister's heads, slowly stroking them. He was overwhelmed, he had hardly thought about how his sister's reaction would be if he ever came home again, but even so this was no where near anything he would have expected. But he said nothing has he squatted down and hugged his sisters better. His head rested between their meeting shoulders and he moved his arms around them. He had missed them, more than he had known.

But soon something stirred within him, something he dreaded. His lips parted, his nose inhaling that sweet honey smell greedily. He did however stop himself before he went any further, his teeth dangerously close to Karin's neck, but far enough for her not to noticed anything. Ichigo rose, leaving the warm embrace, his thin lips twitching upwards for the briefest moment and he slipped out the room.

He quickly closed the door to their room and turned around, the fake smile leaving him, his face once again turning grim as he locked eyes with his father, his breath coming out unevenly as he tried to tame the monster in his veins.

"What the hell did you tell them…?" He hissed low enough for his sister not to hear though the door.

"The only thing I could say. That you had been taken away. That was what I believed myself after four months of you being gone without even a peep." Isshin said; his voice gentle. "I was worried, I even reported you missing at the police, even if your body was right here. I was getting desperate, the whole family was."

"Yeah right." Ichigo crossed his arms over his chest, walking past his father. "If you were so damn desperate, and for _what_ you are, why didn't you just run off and look for us? Head for the bastards in soul society for advice? Yeah right that you were desperate." He looked his father in the eyes, standing in the doorway of his room. "Worried perhaps. But not desperate." He said and closed the door in his fathers face and locked it behind himself.

A hand quickly made its way over Ichigo's face, pushing into his eyes and a sigh escaped him. He had to get away. Fast. But he didn't know where. He stepped into the room, the mess with the clothes meeting him. He sat down on his bed and looked out the window, a sigh escaping him. He felt exhausted, the strain on his body after lying still and being dead for so long and then suddenly up and moving in a hurry was immense.

He rolled on the bed, lying on his stomach, his hands holding his face. He felt miserable, as everything he had done since he had come home had gone wrong. He didn't feel the least human anymore and sure has hell didn't seem to be able to pass as one. Were the other arrancar back in the palace like that as well, as inhuman as he had become? They didn't seem like it… The boys chocolate eyes clamped shut and he tried to shove the thought away, but the uncomfortable feeling ate at his chest.

'This was a bad idea… All of it, fucking everything. I'm messing it all up…'

'_Don't give up just yet, King. We just got started.'_

'That's what's making me anxious…' He mumbled, curling into a ball, clutching the sheets and waiting for morning to come and turn what would be a sleepless night into day.

**End of Chapter**


	19. Reaper on the roof

**Chapter 19: Reaper on the roof**

A small gleam of light peered through white curtains, making the orange haired boy groan and face away from the bright light. He slowly got up, being careful to be quiet. He sighed; having as expected not fallen asleep at all, even when he had crawled in under the bed to sleep on the hard floorboards instead.

The mess with the clothes from the day before still remained and with another sigh Ichigo gathered them in his arms. When he was just about to lay his heap of clothes back into the drawer on the floor, his eyes met with something grey.

The heap was dropped on the floor again, his eyes narrowing as he pulled the grey clothes out of the drawer. His school uniform.

His eyes widened as he knew where he could go – school. There he'd be away from his family and could easily head out and do what he had come to do. If he just kept on shoving his forced nutrients down his throat he would be fine…? He doubted his own thought, but he had to try. From the school he could mostly probably take the bus and roam the streets to sneak on his enemies.

Felling a little better from finally having an idea on what to actually do, he eagerly gathered what he needed. He didn't know if he had to be forced to go to a lesson - if he wouldn't be able to slip out in time – he grabbed some pens and paper, shoving it all down his school bag. He also carefully packed his container of food along with a full bottle of aspirin from the cabinet.

After swallowing three aspirins he walked up to his closet and took forth his small basket where he had various accessories. He grabbed for his sweatbands to cover various his thick, dreadful scars on his arms. He had to cover up anything that could make people at school ask questions. It made him wonder if his decision to go to school was a good one, but then again he reminded himself; he would get out of the house. He could always leave the school-grounds if it got too hard to be there.

After a tight black t-shirt and the school uniform was put over Ichigo's bony body he soundlessly slipped downstairs and pushed himself out of the door. He almost stumbled over the threshold, as he was busy getting his white and red bag over his shoulder and headed for what he prayed would be an easy encounter with former friends.

Ichigo cursed loudly but headed forward. It was strange, everything in this world glowed with its own life, every small leaf, making the dead desert of the land of hollows seem all the better. It disturbed him, that he could think such a thing; he didn't belong there did he? A hand traveled to his neck and he swallowed. But if not there, then where?

He fixed his eye on the ground, nothing glowed disturbingly there; at least less did as he tried to focus on the way to school. Easily he remembered the way there, so he didn't need to look where he was going. A pair of black aviators slipped over his eyes, which had been rotting away in his bag. The teen had completely forgotten about them, but was most grateful that they were just where he needed them now. It helped a lot, the brightness of everything dulling remarkably as the glasses covered half his face.

He sighed, but didn't let go of his bag. His free hand reached the spoon and the metal container that lay inside. The content was soon in his mouth and Ichigo swallowed hard.

Immediately he felt sick as a jolt moved through him, a stab of ecstasy and then painful tremors, hard enough this time to make him fall to his knees. He leaned forward and felt like throwing up, but noting came. It was like a dead animal had crawled inside his stomach and suddenly come back to life and was now struggling wildly not to leave the warmth of his organs.

'_Make it fucking stop!'_ The inner hollow bellowed, the nauseated feeling washing over Shirosaki as well. Inside Ichigo's soul thick, slimy rain crashed down at Shirosaki, like sharp needles, soaking him through.

Ichigo tried to breathe steadily, his eyes clamped shut as he wished for the sick feeling stop, saliva dripping from his open mouth. Why hadn't it been so bad the first time he ate it, just a couple of hours before? Perhaps because he had eaten less… he didn't know.

The boy groaned, his body shaking and starting to sweat as he slowly pushed himself off the ground. He leaned against fences that lead to somewhere he couldn't remember.

"S-Sorry…" He whispered out loud, addressing his hollow who gave as expected no response. Ichigo sighed, smearing the saliva off his cheek and gathered the items that he had dropped during his fall. Soon he was on his way to school again, but now on unstable legs and probably looking even more dreadful than before. He was happy his glasses were big; as they hid his bloodshot eyes well.

As he entered the school ground, he scanned every corner he saw, every possible little place there was to see for a threat or a good place to hide, something he couldn't stop himself from doing as he had learned to do it without thinking from his long time on the run. The school building had not changed the least, not that Ichigo expected it to.

What had changed though was everyone in and around it. Every one of them had, after all; a soul. Thus, they all shone like beacons to Ichigo. It was warm and welcoming. Just one bite and that ever eating, cold, tight and hollow feeling in his chest would be gone. It never fully disappeared for him after all, even if the nutrients did a good job to suppress it, hiding it until it struggled free.

Ichigo looked away. He had stopped dead and a hand covered his lips uncertainly. Damn, he hadn't thought about that problem. Slipping away from the entrance of the school grounds, to half decently hide in the bushes with his back turned to the building, he tried to relax.

'Calm down…' He thought to himself several times as he knew he couldn't hide in the bushes forever. Taking a deep breath, Ichigo slowly stepped out after his heart had stopped racing.

_Don't look. Don't look. Don't look._

He tried not to stare as all the students passed him, only meters away, if not closer. Ichigo hunched his shoulders together, quickly avoiding anyone that almost bumped into him in the narrow corridors.

Soundlessly Ichigo slipped into the room which he guessed his class would be in, he didn't think the rooms could have changed after six months. He didn't meet eyes with the five other students that were already in the classroom and slowly sank down into his seat, hoping it was still his. The bag he settled in his lap – just in case he had to leave quickly.

He was surprised so many people were already there, he thought he had walked fast to school but apparently he hadn't. His frown deepened a little. Perhaps his clock at home wasn't correct.

"K-Kurosaki-kun! Is that really you!" Inoue Orihime's much too happy voice suddenly filled the silent classroom. She seemed to have come along with what seemed to be half of the class. The addressed boy wondered how everyone suddenly seemed pop out of nowhere at once. The young girl stormed up to him, a large smile spreading across her face.

"It's you, isn't it? W-where have you been!" She asked, her eyes wide with what probably was hundreds of questions.

She was standing too close and her smell filled Ichigo's already cramped nostrils. It was so strong he had to cover his mouth and push his nose close with his fingers just to block her smell out. The thick, sweet aroma that radiated off her made his senses go haywire, his pupils dilate as the monster in his veins twisted, breaking some of the strong bounds and roaring for the taste of life he didn't have. Her smile widened as Ichigo's grip on his bag tightened.

Ichigo didn't answer her question thought; he was much too concentrated on trying no to scream, lash out in a fit and kill everyone just to eat them afterward. He hadn't tasted fresh blood in such a long time that the thick honey smell made him want to go crazy, to just crumble under the heavy desires that pumped through him faster than the blood in his veins.

He watched as if in slow-motion how Orihime reached out with her arms, wanting to hug him. Before she could react to his horrified look, Ichigo quickly got up from his chair, it clattering loudly to the floor, snaked his way through the crowd of his class and out of the room. He ran up to the roof before anyone managed to follow him.

There he collapsed against the fences. Oh, how he wanted to scream, roar across the world. Show his agony he felt over that he wasn't allowed to eat anyone at all. It pained him, even if he didn't want it to, it did very much so. He slid to the ground.

_How the hell was he supposed to be able to go to school and put up an act?_

It had sounded so easy. But now he noticed just how god damn hard it would be. Just how much self-control it needed. Ichigo slammed his head against the bars.

"K-kurosaki-kun…?"

Ichigo had, of course, already known she was coming; her smell much too strong to not be noticed. Her thick honey-like aroma and the knowledge of knowing he couldn't even taste her made him sick. The bad thing about it was that Ichigo knew the desire wasn't coming from his body alone this time, but from his mind as well. _He_ wanted it, the rush, the restoring of life… the utter ecstasy.

"A-are you alright…?"

Ichigo clenched his hands around the steel bars in a try to control himself. She was standing so close again. Because of her sweet smell he couldn't help but to lick his lips and slowly inch closer, his fingers slipping from the bars of the fence. The aroma she emitted clogged his mind and her light blurred his senses. Made him loose control.

Before he knew it her sharp cry woke him from his uncontrolled, clouded state. His skinny hands were over her head, around it, trying to crush her skull. He was pushing hard enough to make the young girls face to contort in pain. Ichigo quickly let go, eye's wide in chock and disbelief at his own actions.

"I'm sorry!" He half screamed, his voice sounding weak and feeble in his own ears. He stepped away from her, not daring to stay close. Brown eyes clamped shut, as he knew looking at her would only increase the urge the kill and devour. It didn't matter if it was a fiend, friend or foe; he knew he'd kill anyone if he let himself slip far enough. Unthinkingly he curled his skinny arms around himself, feeling pathetic. He couldn't control anything. Not even himself.

"I-it's alright, Kurosaki-kun…" Orihime stuttered as she watched as what had been an angry - no, not anger, it had been something else she couldn't put her finger on - seem to transform into what seemed to be a scared, hiding and troubled child. "Really, it's alright… Don't worry."

She didn't dare to go close again, seeing and knowing full well Ichigo didn't want her to. She dismissed it as reaction of something that might have happened while he had been gone. Inoue didn't know what had happened to him, but she could see through his stiff charade well enough to know it was something very bad. It was easy to see on his torn face, it seemed older than she had ever seen it. He seemed weary and tied; even his hair seemed to tint to grey side. She knew she had to let the sudden outburst drop, after all the last time she had seen him he had had a deadly wound in his throat that he claimed had been caused by the people he trusted more than anything.

"Are you alright, Ichigo…?" She asked carefully after a moment of silence, Ichigo sad frame making worry etch at her heart.

"Yeah, Inoue. I'm fine." He was careful to say 'I' as he turned around again, his stiff unemotional face once again back in place, all hesitation gone from it, only a stern scowl remaining.

"Are you sure…?" The young girl asked carefully, her big eyes almost narrowing, the sudden change him in not unexpected, but unwanted. She had never liked it when he shut everything up inside.

"Yeah, really, I… um, just got a bit nervous… That's all." He lied to her, well… it wasn't a complete lie, what had happened down stairs had made him nervous as well, even if it was no longer what the question was aimed at. Inoue looked uncertainty at him, then at the ground and back again. She smiled at him.

"Class begins soon; want to walk back with me…?" She asked quietly, again knowing she wasn't one to ask questions, at least not now.

"I'll be there in a bit, Inoue." The girl gave him another soft smile, understanding. She walked of and Ichigo looked down when he saw her grab her head, most probably from pain.

He could smell the fear reek from her even as she disappeared behind the door. Damn it. His fists clenched tightly. Why did he always keep doing the wrong things at the wrong time…?

Class started and Ichigo managed to lift and slip into his chair without too much attention drawn to himself – but the murmur was unmistakably about him anyway. The quick glances and questioning stares… but none seemed to dare to ask what had happened to him. He dared not to meet eyes or even look at Orihime.

"What's this, Kurosaki Ichigo is back in class…?" The teacher's voice suddenly filled the room. Ichigo cringed, now everyone was defiantly starring at him. He tried to disappear into his seat, no matter how impossible it was.

"Yes, Ma'am." He answered shortly.

"Well, nice to have you back. You do look a bit peaky." She stated, her face becoming concerned.

"Is' nothing, I'm fine." He answered, doing his best to keep his voice in a some what kind tone. He absolutely didn't want to have to explain his fathers lie offhandedly.

"Ah, if you say so…" She turned around and starting talking about today's lesson, to which Ichigo proved to have much trouble concentrating to. He was handed a bunch of papers he had to do, for all the homework he had missed his teacher claimed. Ichigo groaned, as he had forgotten homework even existed. But he accepted them nevertheless and did his best to do some of them during class as a good distraction from everything around him.

The class soon ended, much to Ichigo's delight. He quickly walked outside, getting away from everyone as fast as he could, his bag hanging firmly around his shoulder again; he didn't dare to leave it in class for what he had in it – unearthly things.

His hands moved through his untamed hair as he leaned against one of the walls of the school. It was quiet here, exactly he wanted; no annoying sounds to bother his headache or sight to trigger his unwanted urges to loose the tight, dreadful feeling in his chest. Uncaringly Ichigo toyed with a pill between his lips before he swallowed another aspirin. The quiet of the world did however not last long.

"Yo, Kurosaki." The named boy lifted his head, dully opening his eyes as he had already recognised the voice and didn't really need to look to see that it was Ooshima that had come to cause trouble.

"What's up with the glasses, Kurosaki?" The question was oozing with taunt. "Think you're cool…? You need to dye your hair first you know, you can't look cool in that colour, since I only I can do that."

Ichigo didn't answer, only crossed his arms and leaned onto his shoulder instead, his back facing the gang as his lips formed into a snarl, anger rising within. Damn bullies, he didn't want to draw anymore attention to himself; he had had enough of it already.

But as he was roughly shoved to the side, but not falling as the hostile move hadn't been unexpected, it was hard not to take action. He did nothing to acknowledge the push, but because of it his glasses were snatched away from the bridge of his nose.

"Give them back, fuckface!" Ichigo spat, trying to seize his glasses that were now out of his reach as the other teen was taller than he was. It was hard to see, everything smudging in blinding light in front of his sensitive eyes.

"Aww, look at the weak little skinny shit!"

"Fuck up, Ooshima! We're serious, give them back. Now!" He growled through gritted teeth. But Ooshima only smiled at him and chuckled loudly, putting the aviators over his own face.

"Hey, ey! Don't I look cool now? Oh wait I don't, because now I'm looking like ugly over there!" A big taunting finger was pointed at Ichigo and the people around the large boy laughed just as mean. But when Ichigo's arm flew out quickly, to get his glasses back he ended up punching the bigger male in the face and knock the glasses off. Ichigo quickly darted to grab for them before the stupid heap of a man would step on them.

But when he was bent over, a knee hit his gut with a loud snarl and a surprised yelp from Ichigo. One of the other, lower ranked members of Ooshima's little gang, grabbed Ichigo's bag off his arm and slung it away. It was thrown across the school yard, the contents crashing and scattering across dirty ground, some of the papers smearing in mud as well as the new phone.

A shove sent him stumbling back into the wall of the school, an angry snarl escaping Ichigo this time, but he didn't counter attack. He was much too busy with trying to still his spirit energy that threatened to flare dangerously along with his temper. It so was very hard when he was pulled up by the collar against the brick school wall, his head painfully bumping against the concrete. A strong fist soon collided with his nose and jaw, sending his skull back into the wall even harder than before. His nose started to bleed.

It was fucking bleeding.

Ichigo's eyes widened and his glasses were dropped from the grip in his hand. He gasped, his chest tingling and his mind reeling at the scent from the blood. A snorting sound escaped him as he sucked air back into his head along with the blood; so it was seeping down the insides of his throat and into his mouth. He shuddered, his eyes rolling back into his skull and his body going limp, a soft moan escaped him as he drowned in the small pleasure it gave.

The boy was quickly dropped, the others backing off at the strange reaction. "W-what the fuck is wrong with you, Kurosaki!"

Said male didn't answer. He was busy smearing his own blood off his lips and face to lick it up with a greedy tongue. The tree men watched the boy on the ground, fright of his odd actions stirring in their chests.

"Hey, stop it freak!" Ooshima spat. He hesitantly moved closer, he couldn't show that he had gotten scared of the skinny looser kid after all. He moved his foot against the boy's ribs that's seemed not to have noticed him. When Ichigo lifted his head up however, he faltered.

Ichigo's mouth was filled with the blood from his nose, the blood smeared teeth bared at him like they were fangs and his face somehow seemed to have changed, darkened and twisted, as if something evil was stirring beneath it. The once sad chocolate eyes narrowed dangerously at Ooshima, who didn't take any chances and backed off. His own eyes hesitantly darted to his friends, that looked just as surprised and frightened.

But his move to retreat seemed only to have agitated Ichigo, as he was up from the ground fast as lightning, his hands clawing after Ooshima, who had no chance of reacting. Soon he stumbled and fell more from surprise then the added weight as Ichigo had jumped onto him like a cat jumps for its prey.

Ooshima screamed, his eyes meeting with the strange eyes of Ichigo's. They seemed mad, deranged and yet desperate to take something away from him. Ooshima could not understand what he wished to take, but did his best to get away from the demonic boy nonetheless.

Suddenly Ichigo flew off him, landing on his side next to him as yet another kick in the boys gut had send him off balance. The bigger of the two was up in seconds, Ooshima's body tense and still frightened, if not more than before. He did however strengthen himself and landed yet another harsh kick in the smaller teens gut before he bailed along with his friends.

"Freak!" They bellowed at Ichigo before they left behind the edge of the school building.

Slowly Ichigo regained his senses; his mind clearing as if it had been in a fog when there were no longer was any souls in the vicinity. He had seen what he had been doing, but it had been a little beyond his control, yet he had not moved to stop it even when he had could have done so. He knew deep down he could not control the animalistic want that now was a part of his being, even if he wanted it or not.

He groaned, curling into a ball for a moment, bracing himself against the pain, he rolled over and pushed himself up until he was standing. His face worked to keep a scream inside of his lungs. God, he hoped his organs weren't busted from the kicks. He staggered forward, leading over to his bag and grabbing the scattered contents.

The phone, which had been lying in the mud wouldn't start; it only blinked for a second and shut down right after. A spike of panic impaled him. What if it wouldn't start…? Then how would he finish his mission? He didn't dare to think what would happen if he failed after the second day. Nor did he even for a second wish to stay in the world of the living, his paranoia of the shinigami to come and slay him was already strong enough. He need the phone, to him it was his only way out.

"Now clam down Ichigo." Isshin reassured his son and carefully took the white machine from his son's sickly pale hand. "You need to calm down and let me have a look at that bruise. The phone is probably not damaged beyond repair, just needs a bit of cleaning."

Ichigo still looked bewildered as he was carefully motioned to sit down. His head was slowly tilted and his father carefully touched the swollen eye, trying to tell if anything had been severely damaged. He slowly moved a finger in the air in front of him, Ichigo following it unquestioningly with his gaze. This was after all not the fist time he had come home in the middle of a school day with a black eye and sore ribs.

Ichigo carefully grabbed the still dirty phone again once his father was done with looking at his eye and concluded it needed no bigger treatment than rest and something cold pressed against it. A bag of crushed ice was soon over it and Ichigo held it there firmly as he rubbed his well eye, moaning a bit as it started to water. He smeared the dirt away from the phone, the tears that had come from his eye helping a little.

"Here, let me have a look," Ichigo's father took the phone once it was handed uncertainly to him. He sighed and sat down beside his son. He wondered what was so important with it, what its connections were, it was obvious it was more than just a simple phone; it held something that Ichigo was very keen on not loosing. Almost desperate. Was his son that scared of the living world that it would make him cling to one thing so hard? Isshin's face grew grim, what had happened to his son to make him do what he had done to himself? Eat his very heart out…

No one had told him, not that he was surprised. But not even Urahara, if the man even knew that his son had not been doing some mission in or with Soul Society as he had thought, or at least hoped. He had hoped his son had been on a hard, dangerous and secret one, for he had been gone for so very long, without saying anything, not even one of his daily lies about going to a friends place or something else that his son probably had forced himself to think sounded believable. It had made Isshin worried, especially when his friends came knocking and wondering where Ichigo had gone to. Then he hadn't been able to lie and say nothing bad had happened.

Bad things_ had_ happened, it was easy to see, probably worse that he could think of. But Isshin did not dare to ask as he removed the lid and the battery from the white phone to clean it off. He tried his best to act as if nothing had happened, to gain back the trust his son seemed to have lost. Isshin wanted to prove that he had not changed, he was still Ichigo's father, even if Ichigo had seen through his fake body that he had though had been perfect.

"Ichigo," he said, his voice tearing thought the silence. The lid was closed over the back of the phone once it was clean, the light it gave off proving the drying of it had sufficed. He placed it in front of his son, to show he had fixed it. "Where did this phone come from…?"

Ichigo did, however not give him an appreciated look as Isshin has expected, but his head turned sharply to leer at him, Ichigo's well eye filling with loath.

"That's no business of a shinigami," He growled out darkly, snatching the phone up and quickly left for his room.

Isshin was stunned; the reaction not expected the least. It did however clearly prove by the way his son had said the word 'shinigami' that Ichigo held some sort of hatred towards them. What could they have done…? Was… was it their doing for his son to eat his heart? His face grew even more concerned than before.

What was going on? What had they done? He suddenly stood, a burst of unexpected anger filling him. No, it couldn't be them could it…? Or? No, it couldn't be, Soul Society wouldn't do such a thing.

But the question still lingered in his mind, not wanting to leave him alone. He did however decided to leave his son for now, he had pushed the matter too far already.

Ichigo lay in his bed, his body tense. He had changed clothes, into the tightest black jeans he could find, which weren't tight at all anymore and a new black sweater as his school uniform had become dirty after his crawling in the mud to gather his things. The belongings he had placed on his desk and the school papers were spread out to let them dry.

Glaring into nothing, he lay wondering why his lying father had to ask questions about business that did not concern him. He had never done it before when he had suddenly run off into the night to hunt hollows or anything related to his frequent disappearance. But now when Ichigo didn't want any off it, did he start meddling in things. Ichigo's brown eyes narrowed.

A knock on the door disturbed the quiet air in his room, making Ichigo cringe at the harsh sound. He didn't reply but still the door was opened quietly. The boy wasn't surprised when his father's voice filled the room.

"Ichigo," he said seriously, sitting down on the chair that stood next to his son's desk. "I didn't mean to be mean," he sighed and Ichigo heard his father move a hand through his beard. "Will you stay with the family Ichigo, or... or should I expect you to take off again...?" Isshin leaned forward. "You're safe here Ichigo."

"We're not. We can't stay, even if we wanted to, we would be taken away by force." He said after a while, his voice unemotional.

Isshin frowned, what was this about…? He would be taken away by force? Was that why he wanted to get away and leave the house, because he thought he would harm the family?

"It's Sousuke, isn't it?"

Ichigo twitched at the question. Was his father interrogating him? Prying out information about Aizen? But Ichigo knew nothing of him, hell; he had hardly met the man at all. Ichigo said nothing, leaving his father to interpret the silent answer the way he wanted. Suddenly Ichigo sat up in the bed, his face twisting.

"They will kill us if we don't do as we we're told!" He spluttered out, unable to keep his secret any longer. "The shinigami will kill us if we stay, A-Aizen's men will kill us we don't! They're all going to fucking kill us!" He shouted, voice breaking as he clutched the bed sheets, words welling out uncontrolled. Harshly he bit his lip, trying to hold the cry of desperation and agony back.

"We don't want to be like this! Never did! It's not our fault we had to eat our very, fucking own _heart _out! We were going to _die_!" Tears didn't fall down his face, as if he couldn't cry properly anymore. His chest was shaking, his lips swollen. His eyes were darting back and forth, but never did he meet his father's worried gaze. He curled together in his soft bed.

"We never wanted to kill them..." He was slowly starting to rock back and forth, his nose starting to run and he sniveled quietly, drying the snot off with the back of his hand, the hollow feeling in his chest worse than it had ever been since his visit to Las Noches. "We… We never wanted to _eat_ them all! But we had to, _we had to! _They were killing us, every damn day we had to fight for our life! _Murdering us! Murder!_" His voice and mind was lost, his eyes hazy as he chocked and gasped for air, unable to breathe anymore.

"Calm down, Ichigo. It's alright, it's alright…" Isshin moved forward, slowly sitting down in the bed as well and warped his arms around his hyperventilating son, but he didn't let go even when he felt Ichigo stiffen up and tense when Isshin's strong arms moved around him. He watched his sons lost gaze, the lips still mouthing the word 'murder' without any sound leaving him. He looked so lost, so… so _hollow_.

"Sssh… You're safe here, I'll protect you." He whispered slowly. God, what had happened to his son? What had they done!

Isshin suddenly drew back; an unexpected elbow had been driven into his abdomen by Ichigo, who had quickly gotten up on his feet, barring his teeth at his him. Isshin's eyes widened. Shit, he didn't think the words he had chosen carefully would anger his son.

"Then where the hell were you when we needed you! When we were dying – not once did you tell us you were a _shinigami_, not once did you help us when we were hurt after a fight – You didn't even save…" Ichigo fell silent; his eyes hardening, mouth turning into a thin line. "…Mom."

His glare turned angry, filling with nothing by hate and rage. Isshin was speechless, not knowing what to do. That hate he saw in his son's eyes... He had seen his son mad at him many times, but not this pure _hate_.

Isshin rose slowly from the bed. The hunching form of his son was threatening, the way Ichigo's fingers curled as if they were claws, his teeth showing as if they were fangs.

"If I could have I would…" Isshin whispered before he turned to leave; the look in Ichigo's eyes telling nothing else than for him to go away. He did as Ichigo silently commanded; leaving the room, heartbroken.

Ichigo's stance relaxed somewhat; his eyes turning sad, but they still held flaring anger. His fists clenched, his hands shaking. Ichigo bit his lip, feeling that his anger wouldn't leave him.

He looked outside, seeing the trees wave in the light breeze, it had started raining. Just great. With his jaw set and a couple of minutes later Ichigo grabbed his bag and was climbing out of the window, his glasses back over the bridge of his nose, to him the world was still bright. He was careful not to slide on the now slippery slates as he climbed down the roof carefully, using the drain to land in a water puddle beneath it.

He jogged off, his breath quickly gaining speed as his legs and body still was weak and untrained. The hood of his sweater was moved over his head, his carroty colored hair masked in the dark night, his choice of clothes not done by a chance, as the black he was wearing made him almost disappear in the dark, cold rain.

The teen tried not to think about what had just happened, but it was hard when his very being was clogged with hatred. However he was scared too, he had seen himself launch at and beat his father until he was dead for his_ treachery_ much too well in his mind. Holding the urge back had been so mentally exhausting.

Ichigo groaned, huddling together, he tried to stop the sobbing, to stop crying. He never cried did he? At least he thought he didn't. A bony hand moved to his face, moving over his mouth and cheeks as yet another shaky sigh left him.

The tall boy turned left at the seventh house away from his own, his feet stepping in deep water puddles. Where the hell was he going? He didn't know, just anywhere was fine. His speed picked up as the water from the sky grew heavier. He hated the rain.

The boy stopped dead as he had turned left again, his eye leaving the ground he had been staring intensely at as he had almost walked into someone. His eyes met with the surprised looks from no other than Sado, Keigo, Mizuiro and Tatsuki.

"Ichigo!" Keigo burst out after a couple of seconds of starring, most probably not recognizing him at first. Everyone else turned around at his outburst, all of them voicing off "Ichigo" like it was a new word none of them had ever heard before.

Ichigo did however make no sign of hearing them, immediately taking a step back before he swiftly moved to the side, walking past them, not wanting to have anything to do with them. He slipped by, speeding up and hoping he would get away.

They shone too bright, smelled too good. His hand moved back to cover his mouth again, but he bit down hard on his fingers, anything to stop the stirring monster that slept in his blood vessels. He closed his eyes and focused on just walking forward, getting further and further away. But the smell didn't fade the least and he could _feel_ one of them approaching.

But just when he was about to break into a run did a warm and firm hand grab over his skinny upper arm. Ichigo immediately tried to wrench his arm free from the girls grip as he screamed when the warmth of her hand seemed to burn through his sweater and scorch his skin.

Tatsuki gasped lowly when her hand met with not much more than bone and that she could almost close her hand entirely around. She had expected it to meet with large, powerful muscles. But she didn't let go even when Ichigo tried to squirm out of her grasp like a frightened rat.

"Ichigo!" She called, but the named teen only tried to get away more violently, pushing at her with his free hand. But Tatsuki easily grabbed it and swung it around, locking it behind his back. She could hear him growl.

"Calm down Ichigo! We've been friends since forever! I won't hurt you!" He tried to snake away, twisting his body in a try take her letting him go, her words ignored. Ichigo felt her like she was one fire, her blazing life burning him to ashes. "Ah! Ichigo, what's your problem!"

"Leave us alone!" He hissed lowly at her through clenched teeth and once again twisted his body the other way and away from her. She almost let go this time, but Ichigo knew he had no real chance against her. She still had muscles – he didn't.

"Let us go!"

"Let him go, Tatuski." Sado's firm but gentle voice rang over the grunting noise from the two struggling forms.

"What?" The girl gasped as Ichigo tried to pull himself free, instead of snaking his way out of her hold. She drew her arms tighter together, Ichigo giving of some sort of snarl when she did. "But Sado…" She grunted again, shoving her knee in the back of Ichigo's, making him sink to the ground. "You want to know where this guy disappeared to as well - don't you!"

"We said; let us fucking go!" Ichigo barked, louder this time, the thickness in his throat from his crying clear. Tatuski's hold instantly softened at the sound of his broken voice.

"Yes, but he clearly doesn't wish to see us right now."

Ichigo took the change of the girls loosened grip and managed to twist himself free and push the girl out of the way, who fell to the ground, not expecting the boy to manage to free himself. Ichigo didn't take any chances, he didn't even look back.

"Hey! _Ichigo!_" She called, her voice worried now, but Ichigo didn't stop running, quickly leaving her sight as he disappeared behind buildings. She rose from the wet ground, Mizuiro helping her up.

"You alright?" He asked her.

"Yes, I'm fine." She said. "But I'm pretty sure Ichigo isn't." Her voice and expression concerned, along with everyone else's.

'What happened to you, Ichigo...? What was so bad that it made you, of all people, _cry_?' She thought solemnly.

The fleeing teen didn't stop running, his heart beating hard against his ribcage. It was a strange feeling, the pain in his chest. He didn't know anyone could stop being used to having a heart...

Eventually he stopped, his racing mind finding himself further away from home than he thought he was. His breath was as harsh as the beating of his heart as he sat down on the edge of the walk way, his long thin legs stretching out over the asphalt of the road. Lactic acid burned through them as Ichigo massaged his thighs.

He tried to still his breathing, laying his bag at his side before he grabbed into it. He was getting delirious. And the monster that moved through him wouldn't let itself be stilled after the so close encounter with Tatuski not matter how much he tried to push it away. He bit his lip and tried to hold back a sob.

He had to eat to stop it, he knew that. But eating the food was something he wanted to do even less in his human body. He didn't know if he could take the pain and the loss of bliss he knew would come when he was already so deep in his emotional locked up chamber.

But nevertheless the spoon was soon down his throat along with several painkillers as he tried to push the spoon as far down as he could, so he didn't have to taste the repulsive flavor. He ate as fast as he could and as much as he could, before he knew he wouldn't be able to do so anymore.

The dead cat in his guts returned, but this time it seemed to have turned into a rotten lion, its sharp claws tearing at his intestines. Ichigo gurgled loudly, phlegm and bile filing his mouth. He forceful spitted it out and gasped as a rush of pleasure rushed through his body, every nerve in his body tingling.

His pupils dilated, the bright world blurring, if possible, even more in front of his eyes. With a jolt and a twitch of every part of Ichigo's body, his head hit the hard ground painfully and the pleasure was gone. His body hurt, his head spinning after the impact. He curled into a foetal position on the ground and slowly pushed himself backward far enough to hide within the leaves and twigs of a hedge. Thin tears fell down his cheeks solemnly. He didn't want this, never did.

But as he dried his eyes with his shirt, making it muddy when he put it back on the ground, he noticed something was off, something was still clogging his nose like before, the smell still clinging to the monster side of his brain. But it was supposed to be tamed, subdued and gone to dwell were we could not feel it!

The boy let out a pained whine. Why hadn't it worked? He curled together tighter, his lips meeting with the cold soil and stones. His hands fisted with the branches, pulling and tearing at them in despair and he trashed his back and forth, thin streaks of tears running down the side of his face. Why, why, _why!_

Ichigo sobbed loudly, but stopped his agonized movements when it only increased the throbbing pain in his brain. When he let his eyes creak open, he noticed that there was a light was brighter than the other had been in the sky, like a gods beam coming from the ground. What...? His bloodshot eyes narrowed. Was it a shinigami? Here, now?

_Shit._ He tensed, quickly getting out of the hedge and up from the ground even if it made his head spin. He took several deep, shaky breaths. Sniffling loudly he moved over to his bag, putting it over his skinny body once more. He looked around himself worriedly. Had he been spotted?

He glanced nervously at the beam of light, eyes narrowing further. It was still, unmoving. Was he going to go there? It was why he was here after all wasn't it? But he had to admit, he was scared, a feeling that only seemed to add to the already heavy weight in his scrawny chest. They had swords and a body they could move in; he had neither. If he got attacked, he was a good as dead.

Slowly he still inched closer; doing his best to keep an eye on that swirling light, making sure he came closer in the right direction to not get spotted. He did his best to focus harder on the spirit energy that was inside of him, he had to make sure not to spill any, even if he did get attacked.

Once near Ichigo saw a blurry form inside the light, he stopped dead. He glanced to his left, careful not to move his head. Yeah, he had seen right, the shinigami on the roof, it wasn't very hard to see, it was too much of an angel not be noticed. Ichigo slowly turned his slightly shaking body, to carefully get a better look, without looking like he was actually seeing the woman, in case the shinigami did look at him. Then he quickly pulled out his phone with his right shaking hand, flipped it open and started typing. He had to dry the unwanted tears away from his eyes several times to see what he was writing.

Shinigami spotted on roof, left house on the fifth in row in the Mashiba block  
Gender: Female  
Attributes: Normal uniform, tall, blond long hair  
Sword: Currently sealed, blue hilt, circular guard  
Status: Seems to be standing by

After thinking that would suffice, Ichigo clicked the 'send' button and quietly slammed the phone shut. It had been hard to not stare, since it was even harder to make out the colour of the hilt of the sword from the gorgeous light she emitted.

The teen quickly left, not wanting to be near the thing that seemed to capture all his senses and leave him yearning for it more than anything else. He cursed under his breath when just a couple of houses later, he saw another beam. His heart once again picked up speed, were they looking for him!

Ichigo stopped. Was he really going to go any nearer? He didn't know if he was walking into a trap or not. An unsure hand moved up to touch is still swollen lips. He swallowed a lump in his throat. He bit at his nail and slowly he loomed closer, taking a shortcut through a plantation and staying hidden.

Wait._ Shit._ He knew that smell, even if he had never smelled it before.

_Rukia._

He bit his lip this time and stopped again. What was she doing here! Her of all people! He cursed at her presence, why, _why _did _she_ have to be here? Was he going to send her information in? No, he couldn't, could he_...? But they are watching you._

He growled; a low desperate sound in his throat and his eyes narrowed. _She's a_ _shinigami_, he reminded himself. Her duty was to kill beings like him. Plunge their swords into his flesh until he bled to death, until he screamed his last cry and died.

Slowly he started typing in her information on the small device, every word and adjective about her hard. His hands were shaking again.

Was he or was he not? An unsure hand moved over his throat, knowing the collar was there on the inside of his body, cloaked in some strange way for no one else to see, threatening every second of his existence with his life. Emotions rushed through him, the feeling of betrayal, failure, despair and the complete sadness from before. And still the world shone like it had never been better around him. He didn't know what to do.

His thumb hovered over the 'Send' button, unsure. _They're watching._

The finger lowered, tightening around the white phone and with a twitch of his thumb the button was clicked. Ichigo stared at the text that said the message had been sent, not really believing what he had just done. He lingered at it, but soon his eyes travelled to gaze the petite woman, that was only a couple of hundred meters away from him. Her clothes seem to swirl in a wind that seemed only be affecting her, her hair swaying and yet still laying perfectly over he big, watch full eyes. What would she do if she knew he was standing right there?

As a skinny wreck, a pathetic ghost of what he had once been… Ichigo quickly turned, heading home again; not liking being near her. It was messing him up, seeing the girl again. He had promised himself he was going to forget about everyone here, but it was hard to stop the memories from flowing when he could see, smell and almost touch them.

But being so close had made him see other things too. Now he could also see the vast, empty rift that had formed between him and everyone he knew. The change in him was too great for him to go back. His wings were ripped and torn and he knew would never fly with the angles again, not matter how many times he tried to fix them.

**End of Chapter**


	20. Something Normal

**Chapter 20: Something Normal**

Day once again broke through the night and Ichigo watched the play set in action in front of his eyes, the slowly fleeing shadows reminding him of himself.

He hadn't slept at all; he had only felt anxious and worried through out the night, rolling around in his bed back in the Kurosaki clinic. The only question that had been ringing in his ear had been; what if he had just made sure she, the only shinigami that had gone against Soul Society to try and save him, would be killed? But then again he wasn't sure if Rukia had changed her mind and was now an enemy just like everyone else … He dared not to think of it.

But the thoughts wouldn't leave him, hoping against hope that he had not made sure Rukia was going to get killed in cold blooded murder because of him.

He had pulled at his hair, muttered desperate inaudible sounds. He had walked back and forth within his room, in and out of the bathroom. He had stared long at the broken mirror, wondering if now what it was cracked; it truly was his own reflection he saw.

Ichigo wished to get away, not knowing any other place to go than Hueco Mundo. He had even called for the black gargantuan, asked for it to come in low whispers, but nothing had happened in his empty room all night, nothing had hinted that his pleas had been heard. But he knew of course that they hadn't. He didn't dare to open the gate himself, as like he had reminded himself of yesterday, he was being watched and would be brought back when they saw it suited.

Ichigo left the window he had been staring out of, it was only an hour left until his father and sister would wake up. He moved a hand through his hair and sighed before he slowly let himself fall backward, his body landing softly on his bed. He slowly wriggled into the covers, wondering if he perhaps was going to try and sleep the day away anyway. School hadn't been a hit after all – perhaps going back wasn't a good idea.

Soon he was half asleep in the bed, getting needed rest even if it was an uneasy sleep, filled with empty nothing that felt like an unsettling dream, as it strongly reminded him of his lost heart.

An hour later he woke up; a light sweat covering him as he yelped, wrenching the covers off him before he realised it was just the bed, nothing dangerous. Massaging tired eyes he washed himself and quickly got dressed in the same black clothes as before. Swiftly he threw the gray school jacket over his shoulder along with his bag with the red stripes.

Hurrying out of his room, he quietly walked down the stairs as he didn't want to be caught. After grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl in the kitchen, he put on his shoes and stepped outside, his black sunglasses back on the bridge of his nose, happy that his family had not noticed him leaving.

Ichigo entered the misty school grounds, liking the morning view of the building. It seemed calm and still. Ichigo wrinkled his nose, his glasses moving slightly. Why did the building seem deserted…?

He headed for the gates, seeing they were closed once he got closer. He pulled at the steel, finding the gates locked. What…? Was there no school today?

"Tch'…" He muttered and flipped open his cell phone, but realized it had no date or anything; it wasn't a normal phone after all. He pulled at he gates again, but figured the school was closed for the rest of the day. Perhaps it was weekend, or a free day – he didn't know, he actually hadn't checked what day it was now when he thought about it. He scratched the back of his head.

What was he going to do now? He turned around, inhaling to smell the air. He couldn't seem to feel or smell any human near by at all, or shinigami for that matter. It was if there weren't any at all, which to him was more than good. He didn't wish to go back home, he didn't want to face his family after avoiding it for so long and he specially didn't want to meet with his father anytime soon.

After many no's and buts, he decided that heading into the centre of town was the only available option than to just mope around in his block. He didn't want that, since then he'd probably bump into his classmates again.

So the boy left the steel gates and started heading in a complete random direction as he tried to remember where the bus stop was located. He wondered why he had no memory of where they were or went. He scratched his head again, why had all his memories seemed to been sent to oblivion of the locations of things in his town?

He guess it probably was because he had been in what felt like hundreds of cities and towns by now, running through them and quickly trying to find some sort of safety. He had only been gone for six months according to his sisters, but to him it could just as well have been six years.

The teen grunted, walking up to an information-sign when he saw it, feeling stupid. He quickly found a bus stop marked on the map, noticing that he wasn't too far from one. Only down the street and a bit to the right. But just as his eyes met with the stall of the bus stop, he saw the vehicle drive away.

"Damn it!" He cursed and tried to run after it, but he was much too slow in his human body. Ichigo flipped down on the wooden seat in the stall, looking grumpy.

'Stupid bus…' He thought and crossed his legs and folded his arms over his chest. It didn't take long until he was drumming his fingers against the wood, the frown on his forehead twitching. He had never been any good at waiting. Two minutes passed and Ichigo considered walking, but stopped himself.

After staring at the ground, moving around rocks with his feet and quiet a lot of fiddling with his bag, he could hear the bus arrive and rose to his feet, watching the tattered vehicle stop in front of him.

He brought a ticket, finding himself a bit nervous as the bus was packed with people. At first he didn't dare to move from the boot where the driver sat, but he knew he had to go inside, especially when people were trying to move so he could get past. He bit it lip uncertainly.

For once he was happy he had drastically lost weight, as his skinny body made it easier to get past everyone. To his dismay he still couldn't avoid bumping into people when the bus was moving, but he clenched his eyes shut and tried to ignore it, even if it was hard. With a harsh and sudden stop from the bus, the boy almost fell and his glasses almost fell of his face, leaving his sensitive eye exposed to the real world. Everything was smudgy, the light so intense it made all the humans blend together into some bizarre glowing shapeless form. He suppressed an urge to start licking on everyone, lap the sweet nectar up as he ripped their skin. It was so very tempting.

But his grip tightened around his bag and he pushed the people in front of him away slightly with it; hinting that he wanted to get past. He slipped by, glad that when he was in the rear of the bus, he noticed that there were several free seats. Ichigo frowned, wondering why everyone didn't walk back here to sit down. The teen flipped down in a seat, hoping no one would sit next to him as he placed his bag there, to slim the chances of it happening.

The ride went by painlessly, but Ichigo kept his eyes firmly closed and wished his sunglasses could be even darker, even if they already were pure black. He fiddled with his bag again; trying to get his mind off the thick; sticky honey smell that filled the entire vehicle like it was made of it.

Ichigo quickly stepped off the bus once his stop arrived, happy to see rather the empty streets ahead. It was obviously too early for many people to be out, at least in town, but there were still more people there than he had expected it to be on a Saturday. It had to be a Saturday concluded Ichigo since a free day from school and work would bring more humans than this.

He moved forward cautiously, his ever present paranoia not wanting to leave him alone. But Ichigo straightened, he couldn't walk around like he was scared, he looked too fragile with his anorectic body already. He did however make sure not to bump into any humans, afraid to get that burning sensation that he had felt from Tatsuki when she had touched him.

The city was calm, just like he wanted. Sure, not many stores were open, if any, but he didn't mind, he could go there later. He wandered the streets, eyed everyone and the roof tops of the buildings in case someone would appear there.

He was getting hungry; well his body was, for human food. He hadn't really been able to eat, finding it so strange after knowing what eating a soul was like. It was so much better than food. But now he needed to eat, and badly. The corporeal body was screaming for it, not his soul, since that one wanted a different kind of food.

Ichigo wandered, rather desperately looking for a groceries shop. It didn't take long until he entered a store that had just opened. He didn't know what to eat, but it wasn't long until he was grabbing several chocolate bars. Oh, how he had missed chocolate!

'_Get something decent too, you can't just live on candy, ya know.'_ Shirosaki mumbled, making Ichigo frown.

"Tsk, you're not my conscience! Shut up, I'll buy as much chocolate as I want." Ichigo mumbled, not realising he was talking out loud and grabbed a fourth candy bar.

But he did follow the hollow's advice; trying to find something he could eat without having to use a kitchen. He found nothing of his interest and decided to go and buy fast food instead. He wasn't afraid of not being able to afford it; he didn't think anyone had touched his money on his bank account. The changes that he had lost any money were slim.

Ichigo paid with his credit card, taking out more money than he needed to pay for his chocolate, as he apparently had no cash in his wallet, only the small pills that he had removed from the pouch. He felt a lot better as he exited the store; _he_ had after all gone shopping on his own. He felt proud, he had done something normal; something he hadn't done in months.

The chocolate was soon in his mouth and Ichigo couldn't help but to smile. Oh, that tasted nice. Just what he needed. He sucked on the bar like a five year old kid.

After finishing the bar, leaving the others for later and he brought the spiciest fast food he could find. It had been uncomfortable to stand in the line, but he had managed not to make a scene or anyone stare oddly at him and ordered successfully.

The boy sat down on a lonely bench where he could watch over an open square while knowing no one could walk behind him. The meal burned his tongue and throat. It felt nice, the food finally having some effect in his body compared to what he had eaten in his house had.

He could feel himself heat up at the strong, sharp taste. A can with red chilli fruits flared it up even more. Ichigo changed his mind about food as he bit off the end of two chilli fruits; it wasn't bad, not bad at all. He ended his meal with another chocolate bar as he watched the people walk past, more and more people getting into the towns core.

It was odd; he had never been sitting still and watched people before, at least not after he had become hollow. It was a strange sight, but it was also very beautiful. The light wasn't constant, or the same colour all over, now when he thought about it he could clearly see variation in the slightly yellow, white shine. Some shone more than others, some hardly at all.

His mood had also brightened concededly, feeling much better he got up from the bench, throwing the trash in the can. He put the candy back in his bag, but kept the can with chilli in his hand, eating as he went.

Most of the stores had opened now, much to the boys delight. He walked into several of them, but came out empty handed, but it didn't matter, it just felt nice to walk into a store instead of running past one at full speed, scared half to death with a bunch of shinigami hunting after him. He shuddered at the memory and tried to shake the uncomfortable feeling.

'_They aren't after us now; they think we escaped to Hueco Mundo…' _Shirosaki added, noticing the anxious feeling that had started growing in Ichigo's chest. Well, he hoped they thought that at least.

The lump in his stomach wouldn't really leave Ichigo and he couldn't help but to keep looking to the roof more than often, the nagging feeling of being watched rising in his chest.

'_Take it easy. They aren't watching us, King! Like I said, they don't know we're here!'_

But Ichigo didn't listen and he hugged the walls, his worried gaze moving franticly back and forth in a try to locate whatever shinigami there could be. He tried to hide in the shadows, but the open space of the street hardly provided any good place to hide.

His breath caught in his throat, his heart racing uncomfortably in his chest. He couldn't breathe as his throat felt like it was going to clog together and suffocate him by itself. Dizziness overcame him and he almost fell as he tried to run away from the open area. He thought he was going to die, the beating of his own heart frightening, thinking it might explode and rip out his chest and scream at him that it was no longer his.

Ichigo didn't know where he was any more, all the buildings looking the same and the fanatic calling in his skull was making it even worse. He felt hot, his skin becoming damp from sweat, the choking feeling not letting him go as he tried to escape the fear that had gripped him. _He had to get away._

'_Ichigo! Stop, _STOP!_'_

Ichigo darted forward. His unstable but long sinewy legs got him far within seconds and when he finally spotted something that held no blinding light he was slowly starting to despite, he curled up in a ball in the shadows, his body shaking.

Ever so slowly the beating of his heart slowed down, his breathing evening out and he tried swallowing the lump in his throat. It didn't want to go away. He curled together, a lonely feeling washing over him. He didn't want to be here, on Earth, at all. Why had they forced him to go back...? _Why!_

'_It's alright Ichigo, just calm down.'_

The boy rose from the ground on trembling legs and leaned against the wall, his eyes closed. He groaned, letting a shaky sigh escape him and moved a hand through his uneven hair.

Slowly he opened his auburn eyes, looking around, feeling a bit confused. He didn't know where he had run. He realised that he was standing in the narrow space between two buildings. He stopped in the entrance, squirming against the left wall, uncertain if he dared to head out or not.

After a little while Ichigo did walk out, staring at the ground when he noticed he was getting odd looks from people. His lower lip was bitten again as he tried to straighten and pretend nothing had happened. It was hard however and he fiddled a lot with his bag, finding it soothing. He downed several aspirins, as the strain on his body had made his headache spike severely.

The boy found himself outside a second-hand store, which he raised an eyebrow at after he had moped around feeling uncertain and lost for a good half an hour. He had gotten the urge to buy some new clothes in the other stores he had passed before, but had decided against it all the time. Perhaps if he got something cheaper it would feel better?

He really did want new clothes after all; he was done feeling like a shabby, poor bum. Sure, the arrancar clothes were new and of course felt fresh, but they weren't tight like he preferred or like any he could buy in the human world for that matter.

So he entered the store, finding the lightning was poor enough for him to remove his sunglasses. He slid them up over his forehead, letting them rest in is untamed hair.

There were many clothes scattered around the small shop, but none seemed to suit his taste. But then he came across something that made him take it out from the rest and holding it in front of himself.

A simple tuxedo jacket. He hurried into the changing room, happy at his find. He took off his own jacket and put the new one over his t-shirt. The pure black colour it had made his vibrant hair seem to burn like fire, an effect he liked. The black school tie that he always usually had in his school bag made him look even finer.

'_Like a real gentleman, eh?'_ Ichigo heard Shirosaki say, a pleased tone as he too seemed to like it.

'Yes. Like a real gentleman.' He agreed lowly and turned around, wanting to see the attrite in all angles. It was tight, but not in a bad way. It sat slim against his arms and loose at his hips.

'I think I'll buy it.' He thought, as he eyed the price-tag, about 2,600 yen; 30 dollars. Not too bad, but not exactly cheap either, but he didn't care now. As decided he brought it and headed out of the store feeling a little bit happy; the suffocating panic feeling form before gone for the moment.

Ichigo stopped outside a hair stylist shop and looked at his own reflection, god he needed a haircut. Especially if he was going to wear the clothes he had just brought. But as he looked through the window, he doubted himself. His brown eyes focused on all the metallic objects.

If he went in there he had to sit still and play normal human for an hour… Would be able to do that for so long, and so close? What couldn't he do with a pair of scissors if he killed humans with his bare hands? The again he knew the people in there would ask stupid questions about his hair colour, which he hated.

He decided against it and the shop seemed to be closing too as two freshly styled ladies exited the building. They looked at him oddly as he realised he had been standing outside starring in for longer than he thought. He quickly left the windows side, heading in no particular direction. He wondered what time it was, since the shops were already closing.

Time had pasted much faster than he thought and it took him a good half an hour to get back to where he had taken the bus before. He didn't dare to take any other, as he couldn't remember were they went, he didn't want to take a bus to the middle of nowhere.

The bus slid to a slow stop beside him. Water from yesterdays rain sprayed wildly from its tiers as they screeched; making Ichigo step back before he walked inside. He was glad to be inside the slightly warmer vehicle as he walked through the bus, having to hold on to the seats when it started driving again, walking as far back as he could.

He sat down on the seat furthest corner, glad that not many people were in it. He tried to get comfortable in the hard seat and glanced out the window, watching the blinking cars flash by for a while until too his dismay noticed something was off. Sure, it was dark but that didn't mean things were turning black and white.

In all his indulging in the human food, had he forgotten to feed his soul and now the hunger came, like a knife in the dark. Ichigo instantly grabbed for his bag, searching for the metal container.

Where was it? Ichigo removed the plastic bag with his clothes and chocolate and wrenched his bag open, holing its opening in front of his face. No gleaming metal in there. Damn it! He had forgotten it on his desk hadn't he? God, he was _stupid_.

The teen nervously bit his lip as he put his items back into his red and white messenger bag. He tried to focus on the cars diving out side, but he immediately wrenched his gaze away as it seemed to want to glue on every dam person in every car. He tried his best just to stare at his legs, but his eyes kept flickering to the side, to stare at the only other person that was sitting so far back of the vehicle.

A young woman. Her smell and light was intoxicating just like everyone else's. Before he knew it he was over at her eat and trying to bite her, tear her flesh open so he could feast on her blood to stop the rising agony that radiated from the centre of his chest.

His hands reached out, long and bony. They moved fast, so very near her throat before she even reacted. They snaked around her flesh and his mouth formed a snarl.

The woman screamed on the top of her voice before Ichigo had the chance to grip hard enough to stop any sound form escaping her. She lashed out with an unexpected foot, right in his chest as the bus came to a sharp stop, the driver hitting the breaks at the young female's desperate scream.

Ichigo hadn't expected it, the kick or the sudden halt. He fell into the walk way of the vehicle, hitting the seats harshly and eventually landing on the floor, were he lay sprawled, dazed. What had happened?

He looked at the woman, her face horrified. She was grabbing her own throat, curling up into the seat she was sitting in, looking like she wanted to run, but had no place to go. Ichigo realised he had done something on gruesome impulse. Again.

"I'm sorry! I-I got problems!" Ichigo stuttered stupidly, not knowing how to explain himself. But he didn't get a change to say anything more before big, rough hands from the driver wrenched him up from the floor.

"What do you think you're doing, boy!" The voice barked. Ichigo squirmed, the touch more than unpleasant.

"Ah!" Ichigo screamed and twisted his body around, so the man let him go. "I-I didn't mean to! Sorry!" He blurted out as he grabbed for his messenger bag and rose from the floor. He bowed stupidly to the girl, not knowing what else to do.

"Sorry, I got problems! C-can't control myself!"

"Oh, please!" The man barked and suddenly grabbed Ichigo by the collar of his school jacket. "Get out!"

Ichigo was shoved off the bus, almost tripping on the way out. He watched it drive away loudly from him and he stomped a foot at ground. Fuck, he said he was sorry!

His fist clenched together and he turned around sharply, storming off in the direction of his home. Tsk... Fucking humans, not understanding anything at all!

Ichigo stared at the ground, trying to ignore the small glimmer from insects and various lives that tore thought the pure black of his glasses. But he couldn't ignore it when a rat suddenly captured his gaze after ten minutes of fast walking. He knew rats were not a particular good taste, dogs and cats were better, but it had to do. He had eaten many of them before after all.

Ichigo's arms and fingers stretched out, reaching for the running animal. But as he was just about to capture the rat, his eyes widening in anticipation, did the phone in his pocket chime and vibrate harshly. Ichigo instantly faltered at what he was going, almost tripping from sheer surprise.

The phone was out of his pocket and the rat forgotten in a matter of seconds. Ichigo quickly clicked the buttons to read the message he had received. It read:

Tonight. At the entrance to Karakura Community Park.

What? He was going back already? They had said a week, no three days! Not that it saddened him, but he wasn't near the park at all. He started running, the world loosing colour rapidly around him, the small lives in it gaining intensity and the urge to attack stronger. Maybe he should have tried harder to get the rat...

His breath caught in his throat, Ichigo's long legs bringing him toward his home fast, but not fast enough to his liking. He flash-jumped.

The boy screamed, pain tearing from his feet, into his leg to land in his organs. His leg felt like they were breaking, his gut like it was sinking into the ground; his head like it was going to fall off his shoulders and rip his spine with it. He fell to the ground.

'_What the hell are you doing, you moron!'_

'Fucking shut it, hollow! I didn't know it would...'

"GAH!" He felt hot bile in the back of his mouth. '...Hurt so badly!'

He clenched his jaw, bracing himself against the pain and pushed himself up until he was standing. His face worked to keep the scream inside of his lungs. Flash-jumping in his human body was something he was never going to do again.

"Fuck." He hissed, trying to ignore the hot knives that seemed to spear him every time he tried to move. He cursed again, louder this time as he was now limping home, the clock still ticking. Well, he thought, at least he had gotten pretty far with the flash-step.

The teen slowly opened the door to the house, frowning harder when it creaked loudly. He made his way up the stairs limping and stepped inside his room, placing his bag next to his bed.

Ichigo saw the container stand silently on his desk, where he knew he had forgotten it. Slowly he walked up to it, frowned and grabbed it. Pouring most of the content down into his throat, wanting the emptiness in his chest to stop as fast as it could, he shivered in disgust. He fell to the floor and cursed as the metal clattered against the floor loudly.

Spidery hands moved over his mouth, stopping a scream as he lay twitching on the floor. He tried to be quiet as he squirmed in pain over the floorboards. It was even worse now after the flash-step. As it slowly ceased he grunted and relaxed against the floor. He moaned as the pain lingered, his chest heaving and sweat coating his pale skin.

Oh, he was never going to eat that when he was in his human body _ever_ again. The thought instantly made him think about the badge. His head lifted from the floor. He had to find his badge he got from the shinigami swine, and fast. He had to get out of his body _now_.

Ichigo quickly opened the drawers in his desk, rummaging in it to find the item. He quickly moved over to his bureau, once again pulling out the clothes and underwear. He found no brown object anywhere.

Turning around, the boy wrenched the wardrobe open, tearing out all the clothes and hastily searching through the pocket of every pair of jeans. But even when all his clothes were scattered across his room in a mess, did he find the badge that would release his soul from its meaty bounds.

Ichigo pulled at his hair - Where the hell was it? Who had stolen his badge!

That man that immediately popped up in his mind was no other than his father. Ichigo's jaw clenched together along with his fists. It was probably in the lying shinigami's room. Ichigo threw the purple jeans he had in his grip to the floor and headed straight for his father's room.

The boy stopped in the doorway to the bedroom, despite his rising anger he knew he couldn't wake up his father. Slowly he stepped inside and silently wished his father would snore to make it easier as the floor creaked. Slowly he edged closer to the night stand his father was sleeping next to.

The small drawers were opened and Ichigo carefully crouched down next to it, doing his best to stay quiet as he searched them. His eyebrows knitted together harder each time his gaze flickered to his father's sleeping form.

He didn't find what he was looking for; putting back the content he had removed from the first drawer just like it had been before and opened the next one to do the same. Again nothing.

"Damn it, where is it?" Ichigo cursed under his breath lowly.

Deciding to take a better look again, he saw something suspicious; a piece of black cloth that was wrapped around something under the last car magazine. Ichigo dove for it, rising from the floor as he did, his knee accidentally hitting the pulled out drawer.

His father woke up, his eyes flying open and meeting with Ichigo's brown ones. Ichigo drew back, the badge quiet visible in his hand, as the dark brown contrasting sharply against his pale skin.

Isshin was up in a matter of seconds, Ichigo pressing his back against the wall. _Shit._

The badge was slammed against his bony chest and with a rush his soul was free from its bounds. Ichigo could hear his body fall helplessly to the ground and he wasted no time, his arm lashing out against his father, who stumbled back, shocked at the sudden hard shove in his chest.

The teen leaped, the window open and Ichigo was gone in a matter of seconds, the flash-step making him appear like a blur to Isshin. But Isshin knew what he had seen as he grabbed his chest that ached in more than just psychical pain. He had seen the colour of the clothes his son had worn.

It hadn't been the midnight black he had expected, it had been white, purest white. Just like the arrancar he had seen in town had worn. It was the colour that he knew many shinigami considered the colour of traitors. But what also had come to his attention, before Ichigo had had the time to disappear in a flash-step, was the black, tight sitting object around his throat.

A large collar it had seemed. Isshin sat down on the bed, he knew what that was. He had been a shinigami himself of hundreds of years; he had seen those_ things_ being used. Isshin had been eyewitness to several trails where the collar had been the chosen punishment, one of the worst of the short list of them. But it had been a tool that had been used rarely and eventually it had been discarded. It had been considered too cruel and primitive for their standards.

Since what it did was not humane, it ate the victim alive, all controlled by the smallest remote making the torturer not even having to near the person that was to be punished.

Isshin could feel his hands shaking, his anger rising and his chest filling up with utter sadness for his son. He could not allow someone to do this to his own flesh and blood!

As his mind was set he carefully lifted Ichigo's limp body, placing it carefully on his bed. The respirator for it had to wait, even if he knew the matter was urgent. But so was it to catch his son's soul, because what was the use of the body, if he would never get his son's back to it?

The small badge lay on the floor and Isshin's fingers were soon around it and his own soul was released from his fake body. It felt strange; he hadn't been out of his Gigai for so very long. But he had no time to loose and with a last glimpse at his son's lifeless body, his was out of the house, trying to find Ichigo.

After landing, after yet another tiring flash-jump, as it seem to surge him of power, Ichigo ran again, doing his best at trying to find his way. It was easier as he ran on the roof tops, even if he knew it wasn't a good idea to do that, since he was easier to spot for others that were on the top of the houses as well.

He was afraid his father might be following him, even if he doubted it. Could his father get out of that fake body of his? Ichigo bit his lip; he had left the badge right there on the floor, so he probably could. Ichigo cursed, as his attention drawn elsewhere and he slid on the slates, down the roof and landing in several bushes.

"Fuck!" He fumed loudly, his breath getting ragged from the fall. Damn it, he didn't want to be left behind, not here in the place where even his father was among the bad. He got up clumsily, pulling his body forward by grabbing onto the branches from larger bushes. He felt leaf's stick to his hair and the thorns tear at his skin as they prodded through the fabric of his clothes. But he ignored them, happy when his feet met with the asphalt of the walk way.

Wait. What was that he smelled?

"Oh, fucking hell! He's coming after us!" Ichigo screeched more to himself than anyone, panic once again filling him. He sprinted, quickly running; now hoping that if he ran on the ground he would be harder to see.

Finally arriving in Karakura Community Park, he saw the black portal hover in the air, reality ripped open where it lay. He was out of breath, his chest heaving. To his surprise Grimmjow was standing inside it.

Ichigo stopped in front of it, seeing a smaller arrancar standing next to the Espada, a servant or a fracción he presumed. Grimmjow looked like he had been waiting for a long time. Ichigo could feel a tingle of worry move through him as he hoped he wouldn't get punished for being late.

"You're late." Grimmjow muttered, but still he looked like he didn't care. Ichigo said nothing in response, only lifted his leg over the small edge and stepped inside hurriedly when the servant had moved aside. But as Ichigo thought the portal was going to close behind him, he heard someone yell.

"Ichigo! Please don't leave!"

What he saw when he turned around, was something he did not want to believe. His father, dressed in nothing else but black. Black with white garment around the hip and a white coat hanging over one shoulder.

He was a damn shinigami_ captain!_

His father shouted words at him, pleading eyes meeting with his burning ones, his eyes that burned with rage against what he thought had been a good parent. Isshin was the worst of his kind; a captain. Just like the one that had made Ichigo end the beating of his own heart. Feelings of betrayal rose in the place where it had once been.

"You fucking liar!" He suddenly roared; his voice more of a monsters angry growl than that of a young boy.

His father stopped, but more from the cero that had been shot by Grimmjow then they cry of his son. The beam whizzed past his hear, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on an end as he had just barely managed to dodge it. As he looked up, he could see the portal vibrate, as if getting ready to close.

He leaped forward, in an unthinking moment of desperation to get his son back from the ones that held him and shouted the only words that filled his mind.

"I love you! You'll always be my son, no matter what you are!" His eyes darted back and forth frantically as dust suddenly whirled up from the ground, the sound of twisting metal was heard and the portal was gone from the world. Isshin fell to his knees; once again he had let another member of his fragile family slip between his hands…

As the smoke cleared, falling to the ground solemnly as if dying, Isshin fought the tears that were forming in his eyes.

When he heard a faint sound of footsteps, his hope rose in some twisted imagination that his son had jumped out the portal at the last second. But he was met with the concerned look of an old friend, Urahara Kisuke.

"My, my, Mr. Kurosaki. Taking a midnight stroll in your shinigami uniform?" He asked, feigning surprise as he hid his face behind the simple white fan that never left his side. Yet, his eyes still shone with worry for an old friend that he had trouble hiding. Isshin quickly got up from the ground.

"Urahara," Isshin said; letting his breath out, feeling the tears dry up in his eyes as he blinked them away furiously.

"Or were you fighting an Espada level Arrancar alone?" His voice suddenly serious as he could see the others face more clearly in the dim moonlight – clearly see the stress and worry. "My sensors detected a gargantuan opening and no shinigami nearby, so I decided to see why," he folded his fan with a snap. "Imagine my surprise to find you here."

Isshin faltered, he did not dare to tell his friend of the situation just yet, afraid to put his son in even more trouble than he already seemed to be in. Instead he lied.

"Yes, it was an arrancar. I fought it but it escaped in a gargantuan." He said, and turned strictly on his heel to depart, wishing to be left alone. His heart was too crushed for him to stand there and lie his friend in the face.

"I lost something more important than the battle..." He whispered, more to himself than the other man before he left.

Urahara watched the man walk off, the sad voice evident that something more had happened than he let out. Urahara did not push the matter, knowing full well it was not his place to ask questions; at least not at the moment.

**End of chapter**


	21. Black Sword, White Arm

**Chapter 21: Black Sword, White Arm**

Ichigo was shoved harshly forward by the 6th Espada and slowly he stepped out of the inky black portal's mouth. The boy huffed and moved away in a jerky movement, not liking to be touched.

They had emerged inside the castle, somewhere he didn't know. He had no way of telling exactly where as everything was just white and yet again white. He hated the colour.

"Hey kid," Grimmjow's rough voice called, making Ichigo turn around, looking agitated. "I was told to send you back to your quarters."

"Fine," Ichigo muttered as he wasn't paying the other full attention, his mind still back in the real world, the fury at his father still too strong for him to really care that he was bossed around once more. Suddenly, much to his added irritation, he felt Grimmjow's strong hand move at his shoulder and then travel into in his hair. Quickly he spun around, baring his teeth and hissing.

"What are you doing!" He growled lowly, through closed jaws.

"What were you doin' over there, pretending to be a tree?" The Espada asked, holing up a couple of leaves and a twig in his hand, raising an eyebrow and a teasing smile twitched at his lips, making the mask on the side of his face move slightly.

Ichigo shrugged and swatted the hand away forcefully, raising his bony hands and arms up in the air.

"Whatever!" He spat and left the Espada's side quickly, not in the mood for any chitchat whatsoever. As the boy stormed off through the maze like halls and approached his given room with his uniform swaying behind him, an odd feeling suddenly washed over him. He slowed down in suspicion.

It wasn't a bad feeling, not at all, just a faint familiar tingle in his body he hadn't felt in a long time. He came to a full stop, eyes narrowing even further and he glanced around himself. Had someone done something with his quarters? But as he walked up to the door, he recognised the feeling. It itched in his hands and he rushed up to the door, making it fly open as he darted inside.

_Zangetsu_

His large elegantly, curved; black cleaver. It lay on his white clad bed calmly and shone in the light from the weak lamps in the ceiling. Quickly the skinny teen walked up to it, eager to hold it. Immediately when he touched it the black steel reacted to him and filled him with its humming, friendly power.

Along his body the chain formed, granting him the ability to wear his weapon effortlessly over his back. Slowly he touched the red, oddly shaped chains, a smile twitching at his lips for having them back.

As he touched the dark steel, its buzzing feeling pushed some of the eating agony inside him away, making the emptiness in his body a little easier to bare. It was as if it his Zangetsu took some of the heavy burden away from him. The boy squirmed, moving his open palm along its smooth black surface, so polished and clean it could have been glass. Oh, how he had missed it.

He grabbed the hilt with both hands, bringing Zangetsu up in the air and brought it down in a hard, swift swing. Ichigo smirked, the anger in him from before gone for the moment. He swung his weapon in front of himself, watching the cloth whirl behind him. It pleased him, his weapon finally back and as sharp as always. He could hear it cut the very air in half.

As he stood there, he spotted something else that lay in the white sheets. Carefully he grabbed at it. It was a note, which read:

Kurosaki Ichigo

You have from here on been granted the allowance to stay in the palace of Las Noches.

However you may only do so on the condition that you undertake the orders of staying in your quarters at all time, if not given other instructions. If you are seen outside of your room; expect on the three times a day when you are expected to eat the distributed nutrients in the dining hall, you will be discarded.

Any distraction of Lord Aizen's men or any cause of trouble will be intolerable and will be dealt with immediately.

Ichigo's nails tugged at the rim of the paper as he read it and as he had finished. He had expected this kind of message would make him feel relived, but it hadn't. Quite the contrary, his former anger returned, frustration jolting through him.

No acknowledgement of what he had done; no conformation than he had even done anything at all, no nothing. Not that what he had done had caused anything drastically, but still... His jaw clenched together firmly.

His anger quickly rose and he grabbed the white piece of paper with both hands, tearing it apart into as small pieces as he could, before he threw it on the ground to stomp at the remains of the note with his feet, grinding the sole of his boot against it. Was he just going to sit in his room and rot until they found him useful!

Breathed heavily through his nose, Ichigo tried to subdue his anger, but it only rose as it itself reminded him of the anger he had felt from his betraying father just moments before.

His fist met with the door. Again and again he slammed his knuckles into it, more in blind anger than trying to break it down. But as his eyes were fine slits again, his jaw still clenched and his nostrils flaring as his heavy breath increased, to his added frustration he noticed the door was locked. Stepping back, he glared at it, as if hoping a hole would burn through it. Had it locked itself?

Ichigo tried to wrench the door open, furiously pulling at the white, slim handle that was only on the inside. It wouldn't budge. What the hell? Was he locked up inside his room?

"Fucking bastards!" He screamed and with a yet another powerful thrust his fist collided with the white door once more and a loud snap was heard. But it wasn't the white door that had broken down or buckled. It was the boy's wrist.

Ichigo screamed, his sharp cry echoing in the room. Hastily he dropped his weapon and grabbed at his arm. The boy whimpered and backed off from the door, starring at his arm, not believing what he saw. The bone pipe was sticking out of his wrist; exposed to the world from where it had sharply torn the skin. Ichigo growled deeply in his throat through gritted teeth. _Fuck._

He hissed in pain, his entire arm burning and the skin reddening severely for every second that passed. He sat down on his bed, leaning forward as his face pulled together and he rocked slowly back and forth. It hurt, but he tried to keep himself calm, holding his screams inside his lungs. It was nothing, right? Stab wounds were worse.

But that didn't make it hurt any less as his face contorted with pain. The boy raised his hand and held a shaking thumb over the prodding bone. With a sharp inhale he braced himself and with a firm press on the skeleton, he pushed it back into his arm with a sharp, pained cry. _Oh god_ it hurt. 

The wounded hand throbbed viscously and the swelling flesh around it was getting severe. His well hand was clenched hard over the other, trying to push the bone together more firmly, as if it would melt together and stay well. Both his hands were shaking and he held the broken arm so hard it wouldn't surprise him if it would come out blue when he let go, if he dared to do that, that was.

Slowly the boy lay down on his scrawny, bony back and rolled over to his side, pushing the wounded arm near his body, trying to wait the pain out, hoping it would heal faster than it did. But as sweat started pickling down his throat and face, it was getting harder not to voice his agony. Why wasn't it healing? Nothing was happening to it, except for it to have puffed up considerably. The boy let out a low whine and bit his lip, the pain there taking some of the sting in the arm away.

Ichigo didn't know for how long he lay there wriggling in pain on his bed, as he had nothing in the room to tell the passing of time with. After what could have been an hour or so, the pain in his hand was slowly lessening, but much too slow for Ichigo's taste. The teen slowly sat up in his white bed, his good hand drying his forehead free from sweat as he finally dared to let go of the broken wrist.

He frowned; at least he knew he wasn't healing well any more. Not the least. Had to be the damn food, he knew it. He tried to be positive, that at least he could twitch with his fingers, slowly move them despite the pain. He gritted his teeth again, rose on shaky legs and picked up his weapon again, that lay scattered carelessly on the floor.

Ichigo swung his cleaver, to distract himself from the burning pain with a loud cry to make a powerful side slash, only to end up having it strike clumsily against the left wall, making him topple forward and almost fall. The jerky movements made pain shoot through his broken limb.

He had gotten his weapon back perhaps, but there seemed to be no way for him to use it. The room was simply too narrow for his almost two meter weapon. Clever arrancar, trying to fool him into feeling welcomed, when he actually was just put in a cage with a collar like the pet he had become. A tremor of hate shook through him.

'How am I supposed be able to even hold Zangetsu in here! I can't move with it, it's too damn narrow!' He spat to no one, his irritation increasing back to its former level before he had even been stupid enough to break his own wrist.

As suddenly as everything had started, Ichigo could feel his inner hollow raise his energy from within his soul. He unconsciously blocked it, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as his body froze to focus on keeping the other away. This was odd, what was the hollow up to?

'_Let me through, King.'_

"Why?" He asked out loud, his anger still clear in his voice. He was answered with a long irritated sigh.

_'Because you suck!'_

'Fuck you! Like you're any better!'

'_Look, Ichigo, we should be eating souls to gain strength! But there aren't really any here and face it, there is no way for you to train in here with Zangetsu; we need to do something else to gain what we want; which obviously is strength and power.'_

'Is that so?' He thought back cautiously. Ichigo narrowed his eyes even more, this sounded bad, his hollow offering him power so easily? It wasn't a common thing at all. 'And how do we gain this so called power, then huh?'

'_Easy! We merge.'_ The sentence was left hang in the air.

"Merge…?" The orange haired boy echoed, out loud this time.

'_Exactly! A bit similar to an arrancar release mode when it calls out its swords name, I guess."_ Shirosaki answered; a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Before saying anything, Ichigo thought about what his hollow's words and burst out fiercely; "Wait, _wait!_ That means we will go complete hollow like the Vizard said I did when we fought for power, am I right?" His finger was in the air, waving up and down as if pointing at someone invisible in front of him.

'_Correct!'_ The hollow laughed, but Ichigo's eye only narrowed.

"No way!" Ichigo snorted; his voice firm.

'_We do it like thi– What…?'_ Shirosaki asked stupidly. _'No way? Are you stupid! Since our spirit energy merges, it will become twice was strong!'_ The hollow suddenly seemed agitated. _'How can you, that wants nothing else but power, refuse such an offer!'_

Ichigo growled and placed his weapon back on the bed, his eyebrows twitching. 'Simply because I'm not going to let you turn my entire body into a god-damn _monster_! I'm the King, I decide! Don't forget that _horse_.' The last part was filled with venom, as if the hollow was a disgusting tick stuck on the inside of his skin and nothing more.

'_Fine, fucking fine!'_ Shirosaki snarled, his anger clear as well. _'We'll just start small, with the hand or arm or something then, _you coward_!'_

"I'm not a coward!" Ichigo burst out, louder than intended and grumbled inaudible curses under his breath. The frown on his forehead grew deeper as he clenched his firsts, despite the burning pain in his left hand.

His eyes darted back and forth, meeting with his cleaver. He knew he couldn't fight with it at all, maybe he should accept the hollows offer? But he doubted himself, after all the last time he had done it; he had eaten his own heart out. But that had resulted in his survival after all…

'I'm not a coward,' He growled again and he crossed his arms like a small kid, pouting. Even so he could feel his inner demon raise its energy from within his soul again, slowly coaxing him with vibrations. He hesitated.

'_Let me through, King,' _Shirosaki said again; his voice surprisingly soft._ 'We'll start nice and easy, alright?'_

The so called King fidgeted with the rim of his sleeve; not liking that he knew his will had been defeated by a simple taunt. Dark power seeped through his defences ever so slowly. It moved through his veins, where it soothed him with its might. It wasn't until the tingling feeling moved to his right arm and hand that it started to feel like the energy was getting ticker than blood that clogged the inside of his flesh. Quickly he unfolded his arms to watch the hand shake beyond his control. It reminded him of worms, like they were in his very veins. He could almost see them crawl.

His skin formed goose bumps, an odd feeling moving though out the boy. He squirmed, his arm still prickling unpleasantly and Ichigo folded his sleeve up the arm the best he could with the injured one. Slowly he watched as the skin start to painfully turn purple. Gasping, he couldn't help but to touch the skin with his bad hand to feel at it. It was hypersensitive, the fingers slowly starting to shake more and more. Sweat started to form on his pale forehead.

"Is this really supposed to happen?" Ichigo asked his hollow carefully.

He got no answer and watched the skin that looked rotten or infected slowly change colour for the worse. His fingers deep reddish and purple tint were turning black. Worry moved over him, the process starting to be painful, but he did his best to remain calm, his hollow had after all not said anything was wrong. But the suspicious feeling didn't leave him, his mind screaming at him he was committing a mistake.

Suddenly, from the skin white matter formed. It moved out of his arm, like maggots had started to live inside of it and now fought for freedom. It seemed to melt and smear over his skin where it reminded him of the white substance his mask had before it hardened on his face. It crept over his hand and bony fingers. Slowly it hardened, the tip of his fingers extending and becoming sharp, deadly claws.

The boy held his slowly transforming hand in front of him, afraid to move the hand itself, the pain still burning in it. He was getting scared as he started noticing the hand was smoking, as if it was covered in white, hot lead. The boy wanted it to stop, but as before he held back his objections, it was working… right?

When the white second layer of skin seemed to harden, it became as hard as bone. Ichigo carefully flexed his fingers.

He touched the marble-like skin with his other hand. The white there felt smooth and he touched the claws that had formed, accidentally cutting his fingertip on it. The new pain snapped him to reality.

To his surprise, or more or less horror, the swelling and infection-like symptoms had already moved past his elbow without him noticing. Ichigo abruptly rose to his feet.

"You said just the hand!" Ichigo shouted, when the liquid bone kept pushing out of his upper arm. His chest filled with the feeling of betrayal. "You _lied_!"

'_I'm trying to stop it!'_ Shirosaki screeched; sounding desperate much to Ichigo's fear. Shirosaki didn't know what he was doing?

"Get it off! Get it fuckin_'_ off!" Ichigo screamed, but stopped when notching that his voice had turned several times darker, a monster's harsh tone. A hand clapped over his mouth. What was happening!

'Shirosaki! Make it stop, make it go away!' Ichigo was panicking, thrashing with his still transforming arm like it was something gross. But even when he suppressed his hollow with all his might, making said hollow holler at him to stop it, it still didn't go away.

The boy rushed at the door, panic gripping him and he kicked at it, pounding and shouting. "Open the door!"

But there was no answer, not that he had expected one. He slammed his white arm against it, the extreme power it held making the white steel door buckle like it was made of clay. Deep dents formed in it but it still did not open.

"Open the door!" His voice was a harsh growl, a mean snarl. _Shit. Shit. Shit._

'_Ichigo, calm down, we need to figure this out!'_ Shirosaki screeched; the hollow's own fear evident in his voice.

'Calm down? Calm down! Look what the hell you did! You don't know how to 'figure this out' either, don't think I can't tell!' Ichigo shot back, not listening to his hollow any more as he grabbed the small table in his room, easily lifting it up in the air with his clawed hand and with a scream he flung it against the buckled door. A loud crash was heard and the table's leg broke; the door now halfway open much to Ichigo's relief. With a harsh shove with his now spiked shoulder, he was out. Free.

Within seconds he found himself inside the only place he thought that could help him, the hospital wing. He had nowhere else to go. Shirosaki was nothing but a liar and he would not listen to his advice.

"Get it off!" Was the first thing Ichigo shouted loudly when he entered, clearly hinting at his demonic arm. Several arrancar rushed up to him, the 8th Espada's servants.

"Sir, what's wrong?" One of them asked with wide eyes.

"What's wrong? My arm is wrong!" Ichigo looked around in the small room, looking for someone. "Where's that, pink haired guy!" He glared back at the plump looking arrancar. "Where is he!"

"Ah! S-Sir. Calm down! Let me get him for you!" The arrancar hurried off and he seemed to have pushed a button that hung rather visibly on one of the walls. Ichigo figured it was some sort of calling device to bring the man to the infirmary when he wasn't there. Quickly he rushed over to it himself, slamming his white clawed hand down over it, feeling the red plastic almost give away from the pressure.

Ichigo didn't feel like he had the time to wait, screaming at the other hollows to help him, but they seemed unable of doing anything except to get him to move away from the button he was frantically jamming his clawed hand on. They pulled his struggling body away, forcing him to sit down on one of the beds, shouting meaningless things at him. Ichigo was however quickly off the bed and in the pink haired man's face when he arrived.

"So what seems to be the emergency?" Szayel asked, lifting his eyebrows and voice as calm as ever.

"Our arm!" Ichigo screamed; pointing at it like the Espada was blind.

"And what's wrong with it? I see you have given it hollow skin, but you have a mask so I always suspected you could take hollow form like any arrac-"

"We can't! And it won't go away, we can't cancel the transformation!" Ichigo shouted, as if the man in front of him was deaf or had trouble hearing him as his voice was still harsh and unmelodious.

To his added annoyance Szayel was looking more at his mouth in a curious way than his eyes or arm. Ichigo hastily moved his fingers over his lips and looked at his hand, expecting there to be something on it, but there was only a little saliva. He lifted his eyebrows, in a silent, but desperate question.

"So you can't stop the transformation?" Szayel asked; his voice calm and composed even with the panicking boy in front of him. He touched at bit of the boy's arm; it was warm, as if it had been lying in an oven. Freshly changed he figured. His fingers travelled to the shoulder; were there still seemed to be soft bone skin seeping out of infected looking skin.

Ichigo followed the lean arrancar when he walked off, opening a cabinet filled with many small glass bottles. Szayel turned and eyed the boy in an irritated manner, whom backed off a little despite his panicked state. The scientist's hand travelled along several bottles, before he reached in and grabbed one of the ones that stood further back.

"Needle," Szayel said, making Ichigo wonder what he was getting at, thinking he was being addressed. But a few seconds later, another fracción was at the pink haired man's side, holding up what he asked for. Szayel grabbed the syringe, put it inside the opened glass container and filled it – almost full. He tested it by spraying a small amount of the liquid into the air.

"Turn around," He sternly ordered Ichigo, who eagerly did, hoping the injection would help. Needles were nothing he was afraid off. There was a light prick around his shoulder blade, the needle easily nicking through his clothing. Ichigo bit his lip; it had already travelled that far?

"There. That should stop it," Szayel said, walking up in front of Ichigo again with a pat on his shoulder. Ichigo grimaced.

"Should?" He questioned; his voice still rough even if desperation could be hinted in it.

"Well, you are not an arrancar. This is what we use to stop hollow's from transforming when they doing so unwillingly or if perhaps if an arrancar transformation with the Hougyoku goes wrong." He explained. "It is very fast working, so you should be able to drop the transformation any minute." The man sounded very pleased, as if the drug was his own creation, which it most probably was.

"We don't know how," Ichigo growled, his voice turning even darker, saying every word slowly as if the man didn't understand. To his surprise the Espada's expression hardened and his voice was the one to be stern this time.

"You should have come to us if you wished to learn how to transform if you have no knowledge of how it's done."

"Tch'!" Ichigo snarled back. "We're not arrancar! You said that yourself. We don't transform with the use of our sword!"

"There shouldn't be much difference in the transformation itself, its simply initiated differently." He said, putting the needle and bottle back in the waiting fracción's hand.

Ichigo looked away, at the floor and surrounding room, trying to still his mind. With a deep breath he tried to cancel the arm, trying to break the skin like he broke away his mask with all the mental strength he could muster. But nothing he did or thought about made anything happened.

"It's not working!"

"Yes it is; your voice is already back to normal. However your mouth still seems to be black."

"What…?" Ichigo breathed, his injured, shaking hand once again pushing against his lips. He looked around himself quickly trying to spot anything that he could see his reflection in. Szayel handed him the nearest thing he could use, a steel tray that was used to carry various medical things on. Ichigo quickly wrenched it out of the others gloved hands, holding it up to see his face.

_Damn it_, his mouth had indeed turned inky black again. Opening his mouth wider, he stared at his gum and stuck his tongue out for a better look. It was completely black, except for white gleaming highlights from his saliva. A black, deep hole that lead to the nothingness in his bony ribcage, just like any other hollow.

Ichigo grimaced and stuck his tongue back into his mouth. He closed it, trying to see if anything showed. It didn't, much to the boy's relief. He simply just had to keep his mouth shut until it disappeared. If it would. His eyes were already turning back into a familiar white and brown, after all.

"I guess you'll have to wear your arm like that, Ichigo. Since you seem to be unable to cancel it." Ichigo grabbed his white arm carefully, despite the throbbing pain in the broken wrist. It was going to be like that forever? The though alone he despised.

"There's no way to remove it? We can't keep it like this!"

"Well, I can always amputate it," The arrancar said, sounding thoughtful.

"No!" Ichigo instantly burst out, now grabbing his white arm like it was something precious. He unfolded his sleeve with a shaking hand, trying to hide the white arm under it. He was glad it was long enough to only show the tips of his claws.

"Look, what happened to your arm is nothing dangerous, it's… let's say pretty much like the broken masks I have here," Szayel explained and held up a hand against his bone glasses, to clarify his point.

"It's not?" He asked, more to himself than the arrancar in front of him. He didn't want to be more of a monster than he already was.

"No, and look, I can't have you trying to go hollow and then run in here in a panic screaming every time. You should learn to control it."

"It's not like we knew it was going to mess up!" Ichigo spat, his temper rising again.

"I'm going to tell you one more time, if you want to learn how to use the transformation properly, I highly advise you to ask us for assistance. You will be trained for it. If you happen to screw up and become a hollow with no mind, we will dispose of you."

Ichigo knew the pink haired man was right, the hard look he was given was nothing but serious. But for him it was still strange to ask for help on such a matter – before he had no one he could ask for help. Not even his own his father. Not that he was one to ask for help with anything. He did things on his own. He was strong. Or at least so he liked to think that.

"Now, let's take a look at your other arm," Szayel said, breaking the stiff silence that had formed.

Ichigo grunted irritatingly but lay his broken hand in the arrancar's waiting one. It didn't take long until Ichigo found his wrists skin carefully stitched together with a small sterile needle and firmly secured in a casting. Carefully, he wriggled his fingers as white band-aid was wrapped around it.

"How long will it have to be in this…?" Ichigo mumbled his question.

"For a week or so, maybe two."

The answer annoyed him as he didn't like to have his remaining humanoid hand hindered from moving. It made him feel weak and defenceless, more pathetic than he already was. Not wanting to lose his temper any more, he was too tied for that, the teen changed the subject. "We need more aspirins."

"But you were handed a new bottle when you were sent back to the real world."

"So? We already finished it," Ichigo scowled. "Every time we eat the damn food of yours, it flares up so much it feels like our skull is going break, do you know how much that hurts…?" Ichigo inhaled deeply. "Give us the aspirin."

The Espada pushed his lips together, not liking that the boy sounded like he was threatening him. But he shrugged slightly, more to himself than to Ichigo and grabbed the medicine from the cabinet after opening it with a silver key.

Ichigo snatched the tin away from the arrancar as soon as he could reach them, opened the lid and swallowing two pills with a grimace.

"You shouldn't eat too many, you'll get bad side effects," The Espada started, but the orange haired teen was already leaving before he could start explaining any off them. Ichigo didn't want to hear it, he had had enough of eating too, since his over dose anyway. He knew he'd never be stupid enough to down an entire bottle again as he pushed the tin into the pockets of his pants. At least he hoped he wouldn't. He couldn't trust himself, and he knew it.

His thoughts quickly wandered back to his new hand and he stared at it, hoping against hope none would notice as he balled his white hand into a fist, the limb disappearing behind his sleeve. He couldn't do anything about the harsh spikes that stuck out from his shoulder like some medieval fantasy armour.

As the teen turned around another corner, to come to the corridor that held his quarters, he came up to a sight he hadn't expected. A couple of strange looking arrancar, dressed in large white robes were standing where his door had once been. Ichigo's eyebrows twitched. What the hell were they doing?

"Hey!" He uttered sharply and quickly marched up to them. But before he had the time to shove one of the men aside, he himself was forcefully pushed up against the nearest wall, with a blade tightly pushed against his the skin on his neck that wasn't already covered with the black collar. Ichigo moved his head back, trying his best to get away from the sharp steel and not flinch.

"What the hell…?" He growled at the masked man, but his angry expression faded slightly as he recognised the man as one of the members of that group that had sent him to the real world before. Execution squad or what was it…? His clawed hand clenched together again, its power still humming within him, encouraging him to strike. But he held the monster back.

"Don't try anything, _Vizard,_" the other hissed from the depths of the mask. "Orders have been assigned to place a Kidō-door here. You will not disturb the work assigned by the Lord," The blade was pushed closer to the boy's neck, past the rim of the thick collar that hung there.

Ichigo's brown eyes narrowed. Kidō? Magic he couldn't understand. Fuck, they were really making sure he wouldn't get out this time weren't they? His hand clenched tighter, he didn't like the blade against his throat, he didn't like them messing with _his_ room, he didn't even like being near any of them. He leered at the arrancar in front of him, _hell_; he didn't even like this guy the least. His clawed hand flexed, the power once again humming strong in it. Ichigo barred his white teeth.

But before Ichigo did anything more to strike, the blade was unexpectedly released and he was shoved forcefully to the right. An angry growl escaped him and he rose his hand to slash, but as he did his eyes met with another servant, the striped clothes he wore making him look stupid in Ichigo's eyes. What now?

"Come with me, Sir."

Ichigo staggered, the entitlement completely dropping him off guard, making him stop his aggressive manners. What was this nice talking all of a sudden? His eyes narrow and he didn't follow at first until the new man turned around and motioned for him to follow with his hands.

"Where are you taking us?" Ichigo snarled, walking close enough to grab the servant's arm with his sharp claws, pushing them into the soft flesh. The servant however seemed unfazed by the threatening gesture and kept on walking, forcing Ichigo to follow.

"I am escorting you to the dining hall; to eat while your quarters are being restored."

"Tch'!" Restored? More or less deformed Ichigo thought as he let go of the other, falling in behind the servant. Walking behind was better, because then he wouldn't have to feel like he was being watched more than he already did.

As promised Ichigo soon found himself outside the large, white open doors that lead to the dining area. He carefully walked inside, his black boots clicking against the floor, the servant leaving his side as he did. But Ichigo didn't think he'd leave him for good as he walked up to several bowls. It was pretty easy to figure the system; get a bowl, a spoon and grab the grey food that lay in a warmed up steel tray.

Ichigo seated himself in the furthest corner away from everyone else. The white chair he seated himself upon was hard and uncomfortable to his bony butt. Brown eyes leered angrily at the bowl, he still couldn't stop expecting the food to jump at him and start sucking at his face like a face-hugger from those Alien movies he'd seen years ago. He moved his fingers on his plastered hand through his hair before quickly emptying the content, to simply get it over with.

The dully orange haired boy was careful to hide his monster hand under the table, moving it to have it straddled between his thin thighs. There wasn't much he could do about the spikes to make them invisible, he did however try to seem as small as possible in his seat; not wanting to be seen. Unwanted attention was the least thing he wanted right now, and especially not by what was perhaps hundreds of grumpy arrancar all trying to still the monsters in their chests.

He sat gasping for air from the nutrients he had just eaten, damp sweat prickling his skin again. He felt like had been drinking someone's bile. Resisting the urge to push his finger into his mouth, he kneaded his fingers into his eyes the hardest he could instead, listening to the squishy sound it made.

A headache started to hammer its way forcefully to the surface at his temples. He wondered if everyone had the same effects as a heavy sigh escaped him and leaned forward against the surface of the table, his head resting upon the hard plaster on his wrist. Ichigo tried to relax, but it was hard in his uncomfortable position.

But as soon as he was starting to feel a little bit comfortable he heard someone walk up and stop next to him. Slowly he turned his head, his forehead scraping against the band-aid as he did. He glared at a man with long blonde hair.

"I am Illforte Grantz, Grimmjow's Fracción," he introduced himself. Ichigo made no sign of acknowledgement, his glare staying sharp. However the Fracción did not seem to be bothered with it though and kept talking, much to Ichigo irritation.

"I'm here to inform you that you will be picked up from your quarters later today and should be ready for training."

_Leave us alone, _he thought and moved his head back to stare at the pallid table. Wait, what? How the hell could news travel so fast in a place this huge!

Ichigo lifted up his head quickly, but the blond Fracción was already gone before the boy had a chance to ask how he knew. Ichigo got up from the chair, once again feeling old and worn. Quickly heading for the exit to find the other arrancar, he was unfortunately stopped by the same servant from before.

"Sir," He said, sounding more demanding than submissive. "I will escort you back to your quarters." A hand was motioned toward the right hall. Ichigo grunted, looking back into the dining hall but he couldn't spot the Fracción. "Sir!"

Ichigo's head snapped back to glare at the servant, whom was now looking sternly at him and motioning with both hands for Ichigo walk past. "Come with me."

"Fine!" He muttered, stomping off in the direction of his quarters, the servant tight on his heels. Ichigo was slowly starting to hate this place was more and more, like he did with earth.

Once back at his room again, a white door that hardly had any outlines in the rest of the wall was now in place. There was no sign of the former struggle and the door slipped open on its own as he came near it. However Ichigo stopped in front of it, not daring to go inside.

He turned around a bit stiffly, expecting the servant there to stand and watch him patiently. Instead he was met with a harsh, unexpected shove and he had no chance to stop his body from going past the door. As soon as he had entered, the door shut behind him soundlessly.

Ichigo landed harshly on the floor, his hollowfied arm breaking the fall. Groaning he lowered his head to the ground before rolling onto his back and rising to a sitting position. He frowned as his eyes met with the white, silent door. Slowly he moved closer, close enough to almost touch it with his nose.

Touching the surface carefully with a nail, he ran it carefully along it. To his surprise and slight startle, it rippled. Ichigo quickly drew back, crawling backward on the floor. Unconsciously he barred his teeth at it, not liking the new door the least. Magic he couldn't understand.

He could hardly see any outlines of the door; it was as if it had melted together with the walls. Everything just melted to together in the same ever present and annoying white. Slowly he crept back, his brown eyes following the door, up and down carefully, trying to find its edges. Spotting it; a fine, fine grey line in all the white, he carefully moved a nail against it again.

To his surprise he couldn't even feel the rim that was supped to be there. Soon he tried to push with his right hand instead, one of his pointy, sharp claws trying to drill in between the edge. But the door only rippled like before and it wouldn't budge the least. It was like he was pushing into water that's surface was as tough as steel. He moved all his clawed fingers over it again, scraping along its surface, but he only achieved the same result as before, the round ripples they created growing bigger as they travelled away from his hand.

Ichigo rose from the floor clumsily and stood up, his teeth grazing his lip uncertainly. There probably was no way of getting out this time, he was pretty sure.

Slowly walking over to the only chair, he sat down, his attention once again moving to his transformed arm. Placing it on the new table that had been replaced with the broken one, he slowly moved his finger along its surface and his expression turned into disgust as he scraped the crawls along the table. He didn't want it, not in the least. Why was the transformation permanent? It didn't make any sense, and he hated it for it. Slowly he curled it into a shaking first, the claws pushing into the palm of his hand sharply. His mouth was a fine line in his face. He _hated _it.

'_King…'_ An uncertain voice suddenly rang in his skull.

'Shut up,' Ichigo immediately snapped, not wanting anything to do with the voice.

'_King listen…'_ The voice was lower than before, as if the inner hollow was unsure if what to say. _'I'm sor-'_

"Shut up!" Ichigo hissed harshly, cutting the other words off as he was suddenly up from the white chair that clattered to the floor behind him, his cleaver drawn and he was standing in the furthest corner between the bed and the drawer, ready to strike. The door was making sounds. Sharp grinding noises as if someone was bending steel. But the door had no steel; it was just magic now wasn't it? Narrowing his eyes the boy gradually realised the noises were coming from outside the door.

Slowly he was getting nervous, his stance shifting on the floor, his feet light, what was going on? It sounded like someone was breaking their way in. The Fracción from before had said he was going to be picked up later. Was this it?

There was yet another strange sound, which reminded Ichigo of the sound laser-beams did in movies. Was it supposed to sound like that? Then there was a sharp grinding nose, causing Ichigo to inhale sharply and cover his hears. But as suddenly as the sound had started it stopped, making Ichigo lower his hands again and tighten the hold on his weapon. The door quickly slammed open, sliding to the side and into the wall.

In its wake stood the blonde arrancar that had introduced himself before in the dining all. Ill-something, what was the name again...?

"Come with me," Ichigo stepped forward, sheathing Zangetsu and followed, an uncomfortable feeling filling his chest and he wondered if this supposed training was something he was supposed to be scared of or not.

**End of Chapter**


	22. Dog Eat Dog

**Chapter 22: Dog Eat Dog**

Brown irises did their best to see through whiling sand as Ichigo was lead through a sandstorm in cold desert outside. It tore at his angry, frowning face as he followed the servant in the front.

A large door was opened to the gigantic building Ichigo knew lead to the training area. Carefully he stepped inside, not knowing what to expect inside the structure. Eyes met with three people. Grimmjow, Ulquiorra and that extremely skinny guy from before when he had been thrown into the Menos Forest. Ichigo didn't know his name and quite frankly he didn't care. Why were they all here? His fingers twitch, instinct urging him to grab for his trusted cleaver.

Grimmjow immediately walked up to the boy as soon as Ichigo had stopped in his tracks and snatched Ichigo's transformed right arm up by the wrist. Ichigo instantly tried to pull back and a low hiss escaped him.

"Well, well what's this?" A wide grin speared over the man's lips and a shrill, short laugh pushed past them. "Claws, eh?"

"None of your fuckin' business." Ichigo wrenched his arm free with a grunt, hiding it behind his back the best he could, his expression forming into a stern mask. The snicker from the blue haired man only increased.

"Nnoitra! Perhaps this won't be as boring as you thought!" Grimmjow said, his voice filled with glee for the fight Ichigo knew was coming. The Espada turned, facing the man he was addressing, the skinny, tall one.

The arrancar, which was apparently called Nnoitra, straightened from where he was leaning against one of the white stone walls. A sly grin spread over his long face, showing perfect, large teeth as he moved up the scrawny boy. He loomed high over him, making Ichigo feel small and pathetic. The grin spread wider, as he was probably smelling the uneasy feeling and grabbed Ichigo hard in the side of this ribcage, forcing him to squirm and unintentionally letting Nnoitra get a look of the clawed hand.

But Grimmjow was swift and grabbed onto the hollowfied arm again, pulling it up and holding it there for all to see. Ichigo growled in his throat, not liking it but let them look nonetheless before he once more wrenched his arm away.

"Not bad..." Nnoitra mused, leering down the hand. "Looks like there's more than meet the eye? Maybe there still is some fight left in this skinny bag of bones."

"Well, let's find out, shall we?" Grimmjow's voice rose, his excitement clear and he quickly drew his blade. Ichigo stepped back in a swift movement, grabbing his own weapon and unsheathing it, the cloth swirling around him. He moved his feet into a powerful stance, leaning the sword slightly to the side and his eyes narrowed. It was hard to hold his sword properly, the plaster on his injured hand getting in the way. He dared not to use his monster one.

"Weren't we going to train how to transform?" He growled out quietly, more to himself than to the others as he watched both Nnoitra and Ulquiorra in the background getting ready to fight.

"We are! Release and attack, or I will!" Grimmjow shouted; the excitement in his voice all too obvious. He stayed in defense position for a second; before he launched his own attack with a sonido. Before Ichigo had the chance to jump to avoid the sudden attack, he was tackled and with a yelp he hit ground. He recovered quickly and sprinted to the right to dodge a fist coming from Nnoitra.

The teen headed for the walls, staying very close to them to avoid any of the three attacking him from behind, yet careful not to be led into a corner. His breathing wheezed as it started to pick up in his chest.

He darted left and bounced off the walls, right and to the left, quickly switching between them, hoping he moved fast enough to create a diversion. In the blurry mass he was, he sent a punch at Grimmjow's face before he jumped and quickly raised his sword to bring down a vertical strike, the blade glistering in the pale light that shone from the small windows at the top of the high walls.

There was no scream as the blade was struck down. That was something Ichigo had learned to stop doing a long time ago, as it would only reveal his position to others. The heavy blade met its target, but Ichigo was gone from the spot before the teal haired Espada even had the chance to hit the ground.

With the 6th Espada lying in a heap, clutching his face, Ichigo did his best to block the gigantic double axe-like shaped weapon that Nnoitra swung at him. Steel clattered against steel.

"We thought you said were going to train our transformation!" The boy spat and tightened the grip around his cleaver.

"Oh, but we are! You can release whenever you want!"

"We don't know how!" Ichigo shouted back, his eyebrows twitching together more as he blocked the weapon that came at him again.

"Well, then you better find out before you're dead!"

"Fuck you!" Ichigo's anger rose and he screamed, firing an energy wave from his cleaver and jumped away. "This isn't fair!" He growled when he had to dodge the gigantic weapon again and again.

"Who said it would be fair!"

The tall man laughed and with a scream of his own, Nnoitra wildly swung his weapon around in a circular movement above his head, quickly gaining speed before he threw it at the young boy. Ichigo easily dodged, but found another slim sword slip in and out of his belly before he had a change to land on his feet.

The boy fell, his face smacking into the ground painfully. Ichigo didn't know who had hit him at first, but somewhere in his pain-jumbled mind he knew the only one left to strike such a precise blow was Ulquiorra. If the teen could bleed, he was pretty sure blood would be gushing out of him. Now it was only, if not worse, intestines that were smearing out of his body. Both his hands quickly reached below his body, grabbing at the colourless innards.

Inaudible gurgling sounds escaped his trembling lips as his throat burned on hot bile. Ichigo couldn't focus on anything else but the eating pain. His hands and fingers twitched uncontrollably, somewhere he could feel his feet doing the same. A gasp escaped his mouth, past clattering teeth. It wasn't long until an agonized, hysterical scream managed to push its way past his lungs and saliva splattered from his lips.

"Shut up!" Was shouted over the shrill voice of the boy; Grimmjow shoving Ichigo to lie on his back with his foot. Ichigo's face was icy pale and the teal haired man staggered. He drew back the weapon he had held against the teen's throat. A disappointed frown moved over his features as the boy below him wriggled in pain, eyes wide.

"I will escort him to the infirmary." The emotionless, cold voice of Ulquiorra rang over the agonized sounds. A cool hand grabbed Ichigo's casted one, pulling him up to his feet with little effort and kept him standing, even if Ichigo wanted nothing more than to lie down again.

The world was hazy to the boy, his body still shaking beyond control as he limped forward, each step a great struggle as he held onto his dry innards carefully, afraid to rip them open at any second. He didn't dare to look at the grey intestines and he stared blindly ahead. The Espada that lead the way did nothing to help, only keeping a slow pace so the boy wouldn't fall too far behind.

Ichigo didn't complain, knowing full well nothing of it would make any difference. Not even when sand whirled around him as they headed outside, to make their way back to the large palace. After all he wasn't bleeding, thus he wasn't dying yet, but he knew he slowly would if his intestines weren't back in place any time soon. But even if he wasn't complaining, the moans and whimpers of pain wouldn't stop escaping his face that was as set as stone, unyielding to the torment brewing inside. He wouldn't show defeat, even when he was defeated. He refused.

After arriving in the hospital wing the large wound was stitched together, a massive dose of anesthetic forcing the pain away. The boy didn't know how long it took to operate on him or how many stitches that were required, as he already knew there would be too many for his liking as he lay breathing heavily through his nostrils on the hospital bed.

Ichigo clutched his bandaged side as he was escorted back to his quarters about two hours later, his clawed hand prodding the numb skin that lay beneath it. He cursed his own defeat. How could he have lost so fast? Were they that much stronger or he had become so much weaker?

Had they really been this strong before? Back when he was on Soul Society's side... Was he still as puny as he had been back then, or worse? _Weak._

It was the only word that filled his skull, clattering against his brain and echoing inside to grow in volume into a full fledged roar. _You're fuckin' weak! A pathetic useless child!_

Sitting down on his uncomfortably soft bed, the anger morphed into self-pity. Sadness started washing over him, his chest drowning in it as the cold and tight feeling arose, gaining more power the deeper he went. He wished to scream, but he held himself back, the hideous agonized roar caught in his throat.

Ichigo tried to push the thoughts of such an embarrassingly quick defeat away. It was horribly unfair after all. Three people on one wasn't very well split up. But then again he had fought against so many more shinigami, at least five on one. No wonder Soul Society was loosing the war.

But perhaps that was good, force them all into hiding and see how much they like it. Some sort of snarl moved over his stiff face, breaking the marble surface. Yeah, make them all eat their damn heart out and see how fucking much the like it. Hell, he'd personally be there to make sure none of them were fed ever again and then eat them himself when their souls were lost.

_Bah._ He rolled over to his back, the frown back firmly and the snarl gone, replaced with a firm nothing as pain was starting to slowly throb in his side again.

How could he have lost so fast? Pathetic. That was what he was. Hell, he wasn't even trained, nowhere near close to it. He was just attacked and the three of them had their fun. Was he their tool to use as they pleased just like Aizen seemed to think? He clenched his fist.

'_It's not one against three, ya know,' _The sly voice of the inner demon suddenly invaded Ichigo's brooding thoughts.

"Go back to where you came from, you damn hollow. Leave me alone," Ichigo spat, an arm moving to lie over his eyes, blocking out the little light there was in the room. But the presence of the other didn't leave and he retorted the hollow's former saying. 'And yes it is; there's only one body, not two. No difference if there's two fucked up minds in it or not.'

'_We have two weapons now, King. Don't forget that.'_ The hollow mumbled, his bright voice musing. _'A powerful sword and very sharp claws.'_ Without thinking, Ichigo removed the arm from his face and sat up in a fluid motion, ignoring the throbbing pain in his side again.

'Don't give me that smart-ass attitude of yours!' Brown eyes narrowed, forming into fine slits. 'You deformed me; I'm defiled all because of you! It's all your god-damn fault!'

"I hate you! You hear that! I hate you!" Ichigo shouted out loud now, his clawed hand formed into a fist clenched so hard that it shook.

_'Pfft! Whatever, King. But you know I'm right. I know you hate it Ichigo, thus you think you hate me, but it's just yourself that you hate, what you really are!'_ There was an angry growl.

_'You just can't seem to accept that you're nothing more than a monster! Why can't you just see the advantage it brings! The ability to kill, to destroy anything and anyone in your path! Don't waste it. It's not worth it. Just because you're arm looks different doesn't have to make it worse. On the contrary, you have an extra weapon, five deadly claws to rip the enemy to shreds and gain victory with!'_

'Whatever! I'm not gonna let you slip from this one so easily, bastard. Don't you think I can see where you're going! Slowly trying to make me become what you want! I'm not going to have it! So go back from where you came from, asshole!' Ichigo swore, squeezed his eyes shut and forced the hollow down, away from his consciousness, somewhere deep down where he couldn't hear the bright, pestering voice.

He massaged his temples, growling and rose from the bed and headed for the shower, wishing the water would wash his troubled thoughts and agitated hollow away. Make the white bastard flow down the drain and take all his troubles with him. Slowly Ichigo washed his dull, orange hair, sweat and white sand leaving it. Showering proved hard, water easily getting into his lungs and he had to try and avoid getting the casting around his wrist wet too. But after stepping out and drying his bony body, the soft cloth of the white towel starveling over protruding hips and ribs, he sighed and stared at his white hand again. The claws.

Pushing them together he heard them click lightly. It felt odd, the extra long finger nails and the white rough skin. His face distorted in a disgusted grimace as he moved his hand away. It bumped against the band-aid around his torso that had loosened greatly and with ease he pulled it off, his claws tearing the fabric to shreds with little difficulty. Pausing his actions, he stared at the skin. Slowly he trailed a finger over the long stitch. Blue had spread around it, mingling with purple and yellow. It looked infected, but Ichigo doubted it was. With a sigh he stared up ahead, as he dared not to look at it any longer, dismissing it as a failed attempt to heal.

To get his mind off his defiled body, his hated self, he dressed quickly, finding new clothes in one of the drawers white cabinets. With a heavy sigh he turned off the light in the room and moved down to the floor, trying not to lean on his plastered hand as he did. He crawled in under the bed and tried to gain, if possible, a little bit of sleep.

After a troubled night under the bed, Ichigo woke up with a tight, agonizing feeling in his entire being. It ate at his soul as he crawled out from beneath the bedstead and pulled his cleaver out too as he had slept with it beneath him, not daring to leave it lying around in the room for anyone to take.

The boy struggled to the dining area, after hearing the door making a strange sound. At first he had been scared, expecting someone to stand out side to lead him away somewhere he didn't want, but found that it now opened to his touch and no one was outside. He concluded the sound must have been some sort of lock unhooking or a shift of the magic that the door was constructed of. Either way it granted him access to the rest of the palace.

The teen didn't hesitate on where to go; the suffocating and agonizing feeling that had stayed with him through out the entire night had to be subdued. Before the monster would wake up and poison his mind with its desires. Would it be even harder to control now when his arm was so infected already? He didn't know and didn't dare to guess.

They were many, many arrancar in the dining hall this time; hundreds for sure. He doubted he would find a place to sit at alone, but after doing his best in trying to stay invisible even as every single arrancar turned their eyes to gaze in his direction, did he find a place to take a seat.

The food did was it was supposed to do, forcing the monster down, chasing agonizing feelings and gut wrenching hunger away. It made his body feel light but his head began to pound. Once again he grunted in pain, irritation filling him at it and to add on his massive grating feelings, the very same Fracción from the day before approached him.

"What!" He spit furiously before the arrancar had even come close.

"I am here to inform you to be ready for your training in twenty minutes, in your quarters," The man answered when he was close enough to address his message low enough for no one else to hear. Ichigo only offered him a glare.

"Fine," He mumbled, rising from the white chair and moving past the other, making sure he wasn't touched. He knew there was no point in arguing, he would be dragged to the training hall if he didn't come on his own anyways; he was certain of it.

After returning to his quarters, he went up next to his bed and grabbed his cleaver and secured it over his back with the red chain. He cracked his neck and rose from the mattress again. He didn't feel like going to battle at all, his limbs still sore and weary, let alone the wound at his side. But the hollow purred inside, telling him that this time they wouldn't fall, he would make sure of it. The arm was a new weapon.

The boy didn't believe the other's words and did his best to ignore them as he moved his shoulders in circular movements. Swinging his limbs around he tried to get his non existing blood to pump and he jumped on the spot, his sore muscles protesting as he tried to warm up. But he had hardly gotten started before the door was forcefully opened from the outside and again the blond haired arrancar stood in the door way.

In the same building as before he faced the same trio again; Grimmjow, Nnoitra and Ulquiorra. Once more they attacked without much reason.

Ichigo wasn't even given chance to draw his own weapon before they launched at him, all of them clearly ready for battle and had been for a while. Ichigo wasn't ready for it and was instantly hit, a blow to the gut sending his upper body hurtling forward. Grimmjow's sword swept by his head, close enough to cut off hairs. Both Ichigo's hands took the impact from the fall and without thinking he rolled to left, no matter how hard it was with his cleaver still strapped onto his back. As soon as he was up on his feet he drew it and just in time he managed to block the sword that came at him again.

Sucking in air harshly through gritted teeth, Ichigo gathered strength and quickly flash-stepped away. However he found himself slower than usual, due to the stitches in his side coming apart beneath his clothes and he had no time to avoid the attack from Nnoitra. The impact had been harder than the boy had expected, but to his surprise his white arm took the hit with little consequence as he blocked.

'_Use your arm, partner. Don't waste it, it is strong.'_

'Didn't I tell you to shut up!' Ichigo snarled, with a harder grip know that his human arm lay on his cleaver, he let go with his hollow one and grabbed Nnoitra's moon-shaped blade. He could see his eyes widen in surprise when the hand didn't get cut as it closed around the sharp edge of the soul cutter.

A sharp cry came from the boy and he swung his weapon to the side, heaved it upward and threw it away from himself. Nnoitra yelped, not expecting the boy to be able to swing his heavy weapon that was now stuck in the wall. He snarled, pulling at the clattering chains, cursing when his weapon didn't loosen when he yanked on it harshly.

Taking no chances Ichigo shot up from the ground and flash jumped away, flipping his leg so he started gliding across the floor and his feet impacted hard with the 6th Espada, making Grimmjow fall to the ground much like he had done to Ichigo only moments before.

The teen's face started twisting in growing rage. He was going to win and that meant everyone had to be knocked out, he couldn't lose, he knew that. All that was left of his pride would be gone if he did.

Another kick in the Espada's gut stopped Grimmjow from leaving the floor and a fist to the man's head sent him sprawled across it. In the rush of the moment Ichigo sat down over Grimmjow's body and grabbed the teal coloured hair, holding the head still and quickly slammed his clawed fist into his face, again and again as he screamed in anger.

But in the rush of hate, he didn't see Ulquiorra's leg coming from the left and took a kick in the side. He flew into the closest wall, bounced against it like a rag doll and landed face first on the floor with a sharp yelp. The boy stumbled to his feet, his mind dizzy and his side burned like he had internal bleeding from an old wound.

Nnoitra was hot on his heels again, his weapon free from the wall and Ichigo just managed to dodge when it was thrown at him again. Ichigo did his best to stay out of reach from the others, but before he knew it Ulquiorra was over him and Ichigo thrashed in the air, doing his best to throw the other off, whom had a firm grip on his clothes. With a shove of his sharp elbow, Ulquiorra let go of him, but with a quick grab at the other's uniform, Ichigo managed to pull Ulquiorra down with him.

Ichigo landed with a hard thud but even so he sprinted up, leaped into the air and drove his weapon down straight for Ulquiorra that hadn't gotten the chance to get up just yet. Sand and dust whirled up around Ichigo's form as he landed and hit nothing, Ulquiorra dodging by mere millimeters.

Ichigo growled and darted out with his leg to stop him from trying to escape. His lanky leg landed straight in Ulquiorra's gut, sending the 4th Espada skidding across the floor, grabbing his pained torso.

Immediately Ichigo darted forward again, sword held behind him to move it with the momentum into the swing to gain more power. It slammed down on to Ulquiorra's sword. Ichigo raised his right clawed hand, pushing it against the top of his cleaver, adding extra pressure. Ulquiorra's sword trembled beneath the force. The boy locked eyes with the 4th Espada and his darkening eyes narrowed.

But as he slowly pushed closer and closer towards the soft flesh of the other, he could hear Grimmjow growl in the distance and scream in pain through the hands that he had grabbed his head with. If the man could bleed his hands would be full of blood, his nose was broken, his jaw cracked and several teeth felt like they were going to come loose. His body twitched as he got up from the floor and with a furious sneer, he grabbed his katana and sprinted towards the orange haired teen.

'_Bring him down!'_ A vicious snarl came from within the boy's skull and without Ichigo's command; the white arm left the cleaver's edge. It lashed out, his entire body turning around, long fingers stretching and spreading apart. Before Ichigo could seize control of his limb, black energy zapped between the claws tips, gathered into concentrated energy that twisted and turned angrily.

Immediately Grimmjow went down, slamming hard into the ground again as the blur of a ball was fired into the 6th Espada's face without him even having time to see the dark matter form.

Out of Ichigo's eyes white matter poured, out of the tear canals and slowly it bubbled out of his mouth like foam. Black infected his white sclera and the brown irises melted into yellow.

His arm moved faster than he could see and Ichigo felt his hollow fuel him when his energy flared, black spirit-energy pulsing out of every pore. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the gigantic moon like weapon come at him once again. Quickly twisted elastically backward; avoiding the blade that almost took his head along with it.

With a back-flip Ichigo was back steadily on the ground, dark matter oozing out of his feet as he moved past the moon-shaped weapon and his right hand shot out to tear the skin of the 5th Espada apart. The boy snarled, vicious growls leaving him as he scraped and ripped against the other. The white claws went deep in the flesh, long slits opening Nnoitra's muscles. The Espada suppressed a scream.

Ichigo screamed himself, his dual voice echoing with a hint of a monster's bark beneath it all and he kicked at Nnoitra to send him crashing into a wall. The Espada trashed, his long fingers trying to catch the boy's white arm, to stop him from clawing his chest open. But just as he caught it, another mass of energy formed between Ichigo's fingers and less than a second later it was fired, sending Nnoitra backwards from the blast, grabbing his chest in pain.

The white bone mask hardened over Ichigo's face and his grabbed his large cleaver with both hands, energy pumping into it from his hands and the blade glowed a dark blue. It mixed with the black of the hollow energy and it wasn't long until he fired the large Getsuga.

Nnoitra had yet to raise his head when he felt the wave gather and quickly turned around as he felt it spike. A dark, roaring energy wave was sent at him, electric blue zapping around the black half moon it formed. Quickly Nnoitra moved his own weapon, bringing it up against his body to take the hit instead. But the energy wave was massive, pushing his entire body back; making him grit his teeth as he tried to fend of the blast.

Ichigo did his best not to show fatigue, but it was hard as his shoulders heaved with every breath. He didn't get to rest for long before the 4th Espada was upon him again, Ichigo's fiery eyes burning into mint green ones. With a scream Ichigo fired another getsuga, but Ulquiorra had anticipated the attack and dodged the wave before it hit him.

The 4th Espada moved along side the wall, the slice of energy not being able to twist well enough to strike its intended target. It wasn't long until Ulquiorra was behind Ichigo with the use of a sondo, his pale hand moving to strike.

But suddenly white claws were in his face instead, Ichigo's arm moving on its own, the hollow within taking control and pushing the long fingers into the other's soft skin, feeling them scrape against the cold skull. The grasp was firm and with a heave, the Espada was thrown to the ground ruthlessly, the body landing like a rag doll against the solid floor in a hard, painful impact.

Wasting no time, Ichigo pulled back his cleaver, every part of his mind set on winning and to draw a breath of victory, something he yearned strongly after.

But as he was about to strike, something suddenly squeaked extremely loudly in the large room, making Ichigo halt to cover his ears. What the hell was that! Suddenly a voice chimed through what Ichigo realised it had been old speakers, probably not used in ages.

"Will the numbers four, five and six please report to the conference room?" A mocking, sly voice was heard, that was distorting now and then, the old amplifiers only just carrying the sound with them.

"Fuck!" Grimmjow burst out, having regained consciousness some minutes ago. Quickly he struggled to his feet, almost falling again when he had risen. All thoughts of the meeting they were supposed to go to forgotten.

The three Espada started heading for the exit before Ichigo really knew what the message had meant.

"What?" Ichigo gasped as the mask broke away from his face, revealing the tired and angry one beneath. "What the hell!"

Ichigo growled; his breath hard in his chest, his throat hurting with each intake of air. His hands shook, the casted one weakly holding his heavy cleaver, making the weapon slowly wave back and forth. His face contorted, his eyebrows etching ever deeper into his forehead.

"You're leaving? You're fucking leaving! Just because we were that close to winning!" Ichigo shouted, holding up his hand in front of his face for the others to see, his thumb and index finger only a few centimeters apart.

"Did you not hear the message?" Ulquiorra asked coldly, no hint of the fact that he had been fighting evident in his voice. "We are late for the meeting with Lord Aizen."

Nnoitra turned his shoulders; looking back at the teen through his hair that hung untidily over his long face. "You're not staying. You gotta go back to your quarters. You're not allowed to be here, remember?"

Ichigo only growled in answer, his shoulders clamping together. At first he didn't move; his sour face glaring daggers at the arrancar. But when Grimmjow only rolled his eyes at him, did he curse under his breath and followed.

"I didn't know you could fire a Bala," Grimmjow suddenly said, or more of less slurred out through a broken jaw, walking next to the boy, wiping a sore lip with the back of his hand and sporting a large black eye.

"Nor did I," He mumbled, hell; he didn't even know the energy blasts had names. He looked at his clawed hand, bringing the sharp tips together. He didn't know if the electric feeling it seemed to cause was imaginary or not.

Sitting back in his quarters, Ichigo couldn't seem to get past the fact that they had all left in the middle of everything. He had been starting to get so pumped up, he was slowly starting to get into fighting again, fighting instead of running away. He knew he could fight; he had been doing it since he was a child. But he had to release into his hollow form, which was what all the beating up was about wasn't it?

Ichigo frowned as he lay on the floor, trying to still his breath as he had closed his eyes, his fingers pushing into his black and yellow eyes. He had trouble calming down, his body still pumped and muscles flexing on their own, as they were still oozing with strong energy. His white clawed hand was the worst; it felt like it had ants crawling inside of it, making it unable to stay still.

Ichigo frowned and grabbed his clawed hand with the other, pushing his fingers into the palm. A troubled sigh escaped him. He didn't know how to take on hollow body parts. They were supposed to show him! But all they did was fight like it was a way for them to pass the time between their meetings.

Ichigo was brought out to the training halls to fight every single day, to be beaten down until he could hardly walk or had a new wound so deep he had to be carried to the infirmary. The tattered teen started to notice that the others were getting annoyed thought, as if their new toy was getting uninteresting, that he never released, but all they said was to force it out, give into the beast and let it take control.

But Ichigo struggled against it; he didn't want it, the hate for the other part of his soul always rising stronger when he thought about it. He didn't want to be an uncontrolled animal any more than he already was. His mind always wavered as he was about to ask his hollow if the former offer was still accessible.

But he dared not to ask the demon inside, what it had done to him was unforgivable in his eyes, luring him into un-charted dark waters without knowing what might come from the depths. Dark waters that were his soul... Was he such an abomination deep down? No.

He was a caring, kind person. Yes he was. _Yes he was._ He had to be. He would not succumb to his own darkness. Claws traveled over the nothingness in his chest, the still soft parts of his fingers pushing against the edge. But had he not already thrown himself into its mouth, been ensnared and run through with its harpoon barbs so deep he could never be free? So deep under the black water he couldn't even see the surface…

Eventually he gave in, after weeks of metal determination not to. Sitting in his dark, small room, his face grim and his clawed hand moved through his messy hair and swollen, beaten face. He felt worn, so dried out and exhausted. He wanted rest and the only way to get it was to transform into what he feared to become the most. A monster.

"Shirosaki," Ichigo mumbled out loud, as he moved to lean against the edge of his bed. He felt the hollow hum in reply, as he was listening but not saying anything else; none of them wanting to talk to each other. At first Ichigo said nothing, biting his jaw together, unsure of how to say what he wanted. Or didn't want. Depended on the way he looked at it. More or less was forced to want.

"You will never gain my trust back for what you did; even so I have no choice but to trust you anyway. In essence you are the only one I can trust." There a troubled sigh. "I… I'd like you to tell me how to merge, how to gain the power you offered me. Show me my so called true self…"

'_As the King commands.'_

The doors to the training halls were once again opened and Ichigo tried not to seem like he had no energy left, like he wasn't tired to his breaking bones. He circled his arms, the casting on his left arm finally gone. But this time as he stepped inside, he immediately knew something was different. In an unsettling way.

Without much warning two creatures were standing in front of him. One with a long tail, long wispy hair and paws filled with long sharp claws. Grimmjow had released; his cat like form tall and slim looking. He grinned a toothy smile at Ichigo.

Nnoitra was the one that made Ichigo stare, his mouthing almost hanging open stupidly. The skinny male had, no matter how impossible it seemed to the boy, grown more arms. Six arms; each one of them wielding a wicked looking scythe. He too smiled broadly.

Ichigo backed off, his eyes narrowing and he drew his cleaver. At first he scanned the room quickly, expecting the third to show up at any given second, but it ever came. Ulquiorra didn't seem to be there, much to the boy's relief.

"Ichigo!" Grimmjow said; his voice several tones darker, almost like a growl of a panther. "We are done playing with you, this time we will beat your monster out no matter how long it takes!"

Grimmjow darted at him, but as he was just about to extend his claws to strike, the blade from Ichigo came right at him, making him twist in the air to avoid it. However he was still hit, the black blade tearing into his shoulder, opening a deep gash across his upper arm. He could hear the boy hiss unnaturally at him, his voice monstrous beneath the skeleton mask that had already been summoned.

The Espada flipped, just in time to have the chance to land from the blow, the vibration it sent through his body burning into his open shoulder. The pain was ignored and he turned lightning fast back to face the boy, who had done the same. Their eyes met, Grimmjow finding the boy's beady yellow eyes looking at him like he was nothing more than prey. The Espada liked the sudden change.

Ichigo dived at him, cleaver pulled back and ready to strike in a horizontal motion. Grimmjow was fast enough to block the blade with his armored elbow and quickly the two males darted away from each other, moving fast to not get wounded. With a quick landing on the right wall, Ichigo pushed himself at the arrancar again, who elegantly twisted in the air, bringing down a kick at the boy's arm that was already ready to block it.

But the impact was hard and Ichigo couldn't help but to be pushed back, glide across the ground and almost hit the far wall. He flexed his legs, clenching and doing his best to start moving again in the opposite direction, darting back at the arrancar. His sword was grabbed with both hands, to once more swing it vertically.

Again it was blocked by Grimmjow's hand, who landed right beside Ichigo and kicked, hitting Ichigo's cleaver again. The weapon was put up in air for another slice at his head. Grimmjow dodged, even the second fast slice that was driven at him, less than a seconds time to react in between. The kid was getting faster.

But with a quick flip Grimmjow's feet connected with the other's risen sword again; making Ichigo's head jab back hard enough to make him stagger, stars dotting his vision. Grimmjow took no chances, a harsh shove to the chest sending Ichigo sliding backward, tumbling through the air screaming as he slammed against the ground painfully.

As the boy found his footing, bringing his blade back in front of him, he was too slow as the 6th Espada had already leaped into the air, twisted quickly to create even more momentum, his feet slamming into Ichigo's bony chest. The boy immediately went down.

"That's more like it, brat!" Grimmjow spat, but his glee was still clear in his voice.

Ichigo spit and flipped back up, growling and hissing harshly in his throat, his arm immediately reaching and clawing out after the Espada, who grabbed it with his own hand and laughed. He was earned with another swing of the black sword.

Grimmjow didn't let the other's hand go, taking it with him as he swung his entire body to the left to dodge the blade. He twisted again, flipping the boy over his back to slam him down into to ground once more. The Espada was earned with a pained scream and gurgle when he drove his knee into the kid's gut.

The teal haired man laughed as Ichigo curled together on the ground, breathing harshly into his open chest. But he didn't let the boy be for long, his foot pushing hard at Ichigo's throat, all his weight leaning on it, squashing the thick collar together. He could see the leather and flesh beneath push out and trying to get away from the pressure. A cruel, sadistic smile spread over his lips.

Ichigo's legs kicked, trying to heave his body up and off the ground, but the force on his neck was immense, the pain searing through him. With a jab of his cleaver he forced the cat like man away. In a blur of orange Ichigo was up and flash-jumping away to create a gap between himself and the Espada. Their eyes met, Ichigo hissing again and a roar erupted from his throat, a brutal one, fearsome enough to even make Grimmjow's eyes widen. How could the kid bellow like that, without completely turning into a monster?

But there was no time to wonder as Ichigo was at the others neck in less than a second, his white arm's claws immediately tearing through the other's skin and his fingers pushing their way inside the flesh. Grimmjow couldn't even scream; the fingers too deep inside his throat. He hung limply in the young boy's iron grip, tried to kick the other away, to get the other off, but Ichigo had turned into iron, his yellow eyes unblinking beneath the mask as his white fingers pushed in further.

Grimmjow wheezed, he couldn't breathe. Gurgling, he managed to force a kick up and turning his foot to the right in a try to push it inside the other's open lungs, but failed as the claws around his throat tightened. In a low gasp he started to charge a cero in his hand and dug his claws in the others abdomen. He pushed away the hardest he could.

The fingers let go, slipping out of the Grimmjow's neck and the boy's body bent forward. Ichigo staggered back, a heavy growl of his own clear in his throat as he looked up to strike the other again. But what his small yellow eyes met was a blue cero. The impact blasted him away, his mask shattering almost instantly and he tumbled into the wall; dust falling from it as he did. Ichigo slumped against the ground.

In short quick gasps he breathed in air, his body trembling as the crash brought enough pain to make him become aware of the other cuts all over his body. Wearily he tried to rise from the ground, Grimmjow sitting on all four a couple of meters away, trying to breathe through his torn throat.

With a burst of power Ichigo was back on his feet, his limbs moving stiffly. He moaned and briefly closed his eyes, long enough to make his temporary forgotten opponent ram into his side, sending him back into another wall. One of Nnoitra's slim hands clenched into a first and brought it down with all his might into the boy's face. It slammed into his skull; makinghis head thump against the ground.

Ichigo screamed; saliva and bits of his mask that he tried to summon again dribbling from his mouth and face. Stars burst open in his vision like small, blinding explosions as his head was grabbed by the other and slowly he was lifted into the air. He felt yet another hand close around his ankle and a third one over one of his arms. With a hard yank all of his limps were pulled at, hard. The boy screamed, a scream that soon turned into an agonized roar.

As he shrieked, his eyes rolled into his skull, only the black of his eyes visible and the world around seemed to slow down. Ichigo's mind fell away, leaving the battle as his mind disappeared from the real world and he was pulled into the core of his soul by cold fingers. He twisted and turned as he fell through darkness.

The boy landed on the concrete floor, gasping for breath before an icy cold hand pulled him up forcefully. He was faced with his inner demon's eerier grin. But as he stood on unstable feet, harsh winds whipping into his skin that was only needled by hard rain, Ichigo couldn't help but to look past the hollow in front of him; his eyes meeting with the black sun that never showed any hope of ever shining again. A dead planet suspended in dark clouded skies. Was that him...? Was he nothing more than a black hole eating himself alive?

"Time to show them the monster within, eh, King?" The hollow giggled, ignoring the fact that Ichigo wasn't paying attention to him.

Before Ichigo knew it, he was impaled with the other's white cleaver. It was twisted to the left and cut its way out of his muscles. Ichigo screamed and barely kept himself standing. The pain was unmerciful, just as much as his hollow, it grinned madly at him and then took a steady grip over the fresh cut, squeezing it hard.

Shirosaki poured out his white spirit energy into the wound. It quickly infected Ichigo's own and spread its way into his veins. It pushed his own energy out in whatever hole there was; out of his ears, eyes, nose, mouth and eventually every pore. He went blind, only seeing his own thick black energy. It engulfed him, ate him up until he felt like nothing but a swiveled up maggot.

But suddenly the darkness what replaced by the purest white and his body twitched. His cry of pain echoed and thundered all over his inner world, shaking it forcefully and in a shockwave every windowpane shattered.

**End of Chapter**


	23. Monster Within

**Chapter 23: Monster Within**

In the training hall outside Las Noches white towers, a scream echoed. With a massive shock-wave of energy, the scream from within Ichigo carried its momentum out of his body, blasted the 5th Espada Nnoitra away from him. The scrawny boy quickly rose from the ground, his throat raw.

As if in slow-motion Ichigo saw the tall arrancar coming at him again and easily and blocked the incoming threat; the many scythes grinding against each other together briefly. They jumped away from each other and clashed together again, the loud sound of steel against steel ringing in their ears.

They zipped back and forth between the walls, weapons meeting and blocking several times just a few seconds. Harsh waves emerged from each impact of swords, energy making the walls around them hum dangerously as if they were threatening to collapse.

The mask was back over Ichigo's face and when he moved, black fog-like matter came from his body as he swung his sword. The same dark matter flowed from his mouth with each harsh breath he let out. With every small movement the thick black matter swayed around him, engulfing him like a black cloak. His black and yellow eyes glowed through it like sparkling diamonds as he locked eye with Nnoitra. Ichigo drew in air; a deep breath to release a roar that erupted from his throat, shaking the earth.

Nnoitra screamed back, but his shrill voice was nowhere near as threatening as the boy before him. He jumped, moving his many scythe weapons all at once to cut the other down. But when the 5th Espada's weapons once again came at Ichigo, dodged and twisted in the air, his white arm impaling Nnoitra, the clawed fingers moving inside the dry flesh. Ichigo closed his hand around the Espada's insides.

But before Ichigo could do further damage, cold liquid started to pour out of his chest, mouth and tear canals. He had to let go and pull his arm out of the Espada as he dropped to the ground.

The fluid ran past his already masked face and out across his entire body. It covered every gash and wound and mixed with the still spraying spirit energy, forming inky black patterns across his body. Ichigo's feet morphed into three long claws and his orange hair grew long; fell over his shoulders and across his now spiked back. The boy held back a frightened scream when his spine forced its way out from his lower back, forming a vicious tail.

The transformation had been lightning fast, even if it felt like long painful hours for Ichigo. Nnoitra hadn't even had the chance to grab at his wound before Ichigo rose. His tough, muscular arms helped him up on his feet and with one fluid movement the now white monster moved to once again attack the enemies.

Ichigo came darting at the twitching Espada, his body a white blur as he leaped. Both his hands hit Nnoitra's chest, but Nnoitra managed to swing two of his three left arms at the white monster, making the boy back off quickly to avoid damage, a deep growl forming in his throat.

The white monster screamed without much control when Nnoitra threw himself at him and his long slim hands snaked around the teen's sinewy throat. Ichigo growled, his clawed arm moving fast and tearing four fine slits across the others face. Ichigo could hear himself growl beneath the mask, his entire body vibrating from it.

Nnoitra drew back, hissing all the same but in pain. One of his hands let go of one of his small scythes and darted to his face, grabbing the tender skin and finding the eye patch there almost torn, irritated, he tore it off completely. It revealed fangs, which protected his hollow hole from the world. He faced the white boy again, smiling eerily at him. What a beast the kid was! He couldn't help but to let the smile turn into an amused grin, this kid really was full of surprises.

He couldn't he help but to think of the kid as an angry, snarling lion; one that was walking around him; circling and forcing eye contact. Both their eyes narrowed; the small pupil's of the boy seemed calculating. But Nnoitra doubted it, it was just mad raging instinct in that body, hell, he could even smell it as he attacked again; weapons once again ready to strike and cut flesh open into gory heaps. The lion drew back, quickly trying to dodge. But the scythes were brought down in time and the transformed boy screamed. The Espada couldn't help but to laugh as he pushed the weapons further into the hot flesh.

Ichigo screamed in anger, his body pumped with adrenaline that was forcing all pain away. With a snarl the boy grabbed at the black weapons and started pulling the curved blades out. Nnoitra gave a snarl, giving another push and the blades dug deeper. The steel kept sliding out and back in into Ichigo's thigh, the blistering pain coming back over and over again in sharp stabs.

With a throaty scream Ichigo fired a bala, the force of it enough to make Nnoitra loosen the grip of his scythes for a few seconds. The boy took no chances as he ripped the steel out, white puss matter pouring out of the wounds to instantly cover it as he scrambled to his feet to move out of weapons range.

But just as Ichigo turned around and was about to leap at the unarmed Nnoitra, his body froze up, his jaw cramped along with curling fingers and toes. With a heavy grunt the teen fell, his masked face taking a hard blow as it knocked against the ground. His vision went black for a split second and his ears rang. His skin bubbled and cracked painfully, falling away from him. The white swiveled away, the transformation leaving him, his muscles twitching. What was happening?

_'What the hell __are __you doin__g__!'_ Ichigo could hear the hollow's voice boom inside his head, Shirosaki's mind writhing inside of him, leaving their meshed state. Hot bile rushed up the teen's throat and with a fresh stab of pain, Ichigo lost consciousness.

The world was blurry. White coated everything and with a groan Ichigo's arms immediately moved up to defend his face, elbows facing the world as he yelped. His eyes were clamped shut and his muscles tensed.

But no blow ever come to hit him as he sat up and breathed harshly through clenched teeth. Slowly Ichigo opened his chocolate eyes again. He blinked a couple of times, his vision clearing ever so slowly. Realizing he was back in his room he slowly lowered his thin arms. Quickly he looked back and forth in the room, his body still tense and cramped up. Firmly he breathed into his nose and tried to still his harsh breath. He was in his quarters, alone. No threat here.

His breathing wouldn't still even as Ichigo carefully pushed his knuckles into his eyes, feeling the mask there that was still over his face. Both palms of his hands trailed over it, the hard surface cold to his hands. His fingers moved over the teeth he found, feeling them grin impossibly wide. He wondered what had happened as his hands traveled down over his body, feeling bandages wrapped around it at most places underneath the white uniform. Carefully he touched one of them, the skin underneath tender. The white cloth was removed and underneath he found red, irritated skin as if sandpaper had been scrapped over it without mercy. He hissed as his fingers touched it.

To his added shock as he leaned forward, blond stands of hair fell in front of his face. What the hell…? He yanked at it and to his unwanted surprise it hurt in his scalp. His hair hung down in front of him, where it curled in circles against the bed sheets. His hair was long! Ichigo gasped, pulling at it again and again until he flew out of bed on unsteady legs, a low anxious yelp escaping him and immediately he turned again, frantically looking for his cleaver and grabbing for it when he spotted it on the small table.

It didn't take long until the faintly orange hair fell lifelessly to the ground. The stands were easily cut off by the sharp blade, but it was still hard for the boy as he struggled with the gigantic weapon. Ichigo stomped at the locks on the floor as he fisted with his hands in his hair, feeling that all of it was short, very uneven perhaps, but short and even more of a mess then before.

As he had stood tearing at his own hair, a sudden hunger stabbed at him, making him lean forward, mouth hanging limply open as if he was about to throw up. He gasped sharply and his right hand moved to pull at the clothes that covered his chest that seemed to scream with agony. That ever eating, cold, tight and hollow feeling that his chest increased tremendously. So much that he had to support himself against the table, to keep his body from falling as his legs trembled without mercy.

The boy tried to swallow, to force the hungry agony away but his mouth was dry, his throat clamping up. His chocolate eyes clamped shut and his breathe wheezed. The hand that had been at his chest quickly travelled to his neck, holding the thick collar that still hung there. But as he stood rasping for breathe his legs gave out under him.

Collapsing to the floor, Ichigo's head hit the side of his table as he fell. Lowly he grunted; his head spinning and throbbing viciously. Hissing through his teeth again, Ichigo noted that his voice was still a monsters grunt. He grabbed at his chest again, wishing it to stop eating him, but it only seemed to bite, his chest flaring with despair. A desperate whine escaped him now, making him bite his lip until it felt like it was about to fall off.

_Make it stop_, he wished, but that only seemed to increase it. Ichigo bit back a scream; knowing it would only escalate into a full-fledged roar it he let it free.

Urges to kill washed over him, his senses sharpening for that cause only. To drive his mouth into something hot and warm, something alive. Into something that stifled all else, something that shone like a light-beacon, its light burning everything foul into oblivion. Foul things like him. He wanted that blood inside of him now. But Ichigo knew there wouldn't come any; the nearest life-restoring creature was in another dimension; on the beginning of the world, not at the dreadful end where he was.

As he sat rocking back and forth slowly on the floor, his face crumbled together with his breath still wheezing, did the white kidõ door suddenly make a sound, as if it had opened. At first Ichigo did nothing, his mind elsewhere, lost in harsh, depressed feelings that came from every part of him as he was slowly loosing the energy to live. But he held onto the little of his mind that was still there, trying hard to create a wall to block out the feeling in his chest long enough to pull himself up to the door, touching its smooth surface. Immediately the white door slid inside the wall; opening.

The boy took no chances and darted out the room, his long legs taking massive, yet unstable steps as he hurried to the dining hall, no matter how much he wobbled and was about to fall. It wasn't long until he sat hidden away the best he could in the large dome like room, shoving his face with grey food, forcing the monster's eating teeth and spewing agonizing vomit away from the circular hole in his chest. But he had to eat a lot before the agony even seemed to start leaving him, two bowls of the revolting substance already consumed. He started on a third.

"That was quite a trick you pulled back there, brat." Grimmjow's somewhat rough voice suddenly came from ahead and Ichigo quickly looked up through his hair, his eyes wild. He had never once seen the 6th Espada here or any Espada at all of that matter in the dining hall before. **is this correct?** He was even more surprised when the teal haired man sat down opposite of him, dragging a chair with him from another table.

Ichigo scooted away a bit, closer to the wall when he saw the other Espada he had been fighting come and getting chair as well, Nnoitra was it...? Why were they meeting him here? The boys eyes narrowed suspiciously. Were they going to start a fight and get every single arrancar in the room to join them? Ichigo felt himself tense at the thought, his worn and gaunt body begging for mercy.

"I told you; you would make it." Grimmjow suddenly said through the spoon in his mouth. Ichigo lifted an eyebrow at the remark, but didn't meet eyes with the man.

"No, you didn't." He snorted, unable to stop himself. He was earned with a something between a snarl and laugh, he couldn't tell which.

"Got me there."

Ichigo said nothing in response and resumed staring into his half empty bowl. There was a brief silence until Ichigo's bowl was suddenly yanked away from his sight. He burst out a with a sharp growl in annoyance and looked up the other, grabbing for the white porcelain again with his left hand, as his right clawed one lay hidden under the table.

"You know, just because you managed to nail your transformation once doesn't mean you're free from us now." Grimmjow warned before allowing Ichigo to get a grip on his stolen bowl and he pulled it close to himself, holding it so his elbow pointed at the Espada, stopping him from taking it again.

"It's not like he nailed it, it was much too temporary for that! It broke away too fast; he should have been able to keep it easily until he broke it on his own command." Nnoitra said, more to Grimmjow than to Ichigo. "To me it seemed like he didn't know what the hell he was doing and just went down burning, or vomiting." The pale man's only eye went to the boy at the last words, a slit of a smile appearing in his face.

"I threw up…?" Ichigo asked weakly, still looking into his almost empty bowl and scraped his spoon around its edges, filling his mouth with a last large bit. He had no memory of doing so.

"You more or less projectile vomited bile and that damn regenerating bone-skin of yours."

"Yeah, the smell of bile hurt more than your claws!" Grimmjow laughed, his hand suddenly slamming down on the side of Ichigo's shoulder. Unexpectedly the boy started to choke on his food, coughing loudly and he covered his mouth.

"Oh ho! Hey, don't throw up on us again!" The blue haired Espada shouted.

Both Nnoitra and Grimmjow drew back a bit, both of them to Ichigo's surprise laughing as he eyed them through watering eyes. Ichigo did his best to still his breathing, smearing his face clean from saliva and nutrients. His eyes narrowed slightly. What was going on? Were… Were they trying to be nice…? Kind? Slowly he watched them, studying the smiling faces. How could they smile? They had no reason for it. Or maybe they did…

They had the fights, the heat of the battle they kept on demanding Ichigo to fight. Fight to keep the body warm. Slowly, as the two men in front of him stopped chuckling to one another, Ichigo realized that in order to be friends, no, he couldn't use the word friend. Maybe associate… acquaintance, yes.

In order to be acquaintances with someone here you had to be a good warrior and constantly prove your strength, fight and defeat. Or there would be no recognition. If you didn't satisfy the urge to kill, you had no meaning to the other; the harsh fights that was the only thing that filled the empty holes in their bodies with something else than agony and despair. A desperate, but working method, no matter how much it physically hurt, it helped mentally. It was a relief and stress-lessening to let the monster be free for a little while before binding it down again hard enough to stop it from moving at all.

Ichigo realized, as he sat listening to the others, that their voices were still rough as well, harsh and mostly probably not understandable to anyone else that wasn't a monster themselves. Evil knows evil Grimmjow had stated once. Beast knows beast.

He wondered how much truth there really lay in those words… So slowly he started joining the conversation, knowing full well the small talk was something he could fill his own chest with, even if it would end up in a bicker. Anything but silence that would only bring the dreadful longing for life back. He almost felt like he belonged. Almost.

But still the fights went on as if nothing had ever happened, yet Ichigo knew; the two Espada weren't fighting as seriously now. Now it was more like they were playing. Not that they hadn't done that before, but now perhaps they were playing with him too, more than trying to educating him.

Even so Ichigo mostly, to his utter frustration, lost the fights in some way or another simply because summoning his hollow transformation was something he had somewhat become afraid off. He didn't want to fall to the ground and faint again. To loose the control he thought he had had. It hadn't been the bests of experience to be lost in a monsters endless void, and yet somehow be in control of it. It had been unsettling, no matter how much more power he had gained.

But the fights lasted longer now, as if some of that monsters power within the boy refused to be subdued and pushed back now that it had tasted freedom. The fights lasted hour to no end until all three of them were bruised and bloody beyond recognition. Only to haul their torn bodies to the pink haired scientist; having him treat their bloody wounds. Once again after long hours treatments the orange haired boy was shoved back into his quarters.

"Fine, fine!" Ichigo spat as the door was slammed shut behind him, as he had been shouting to the other that he didn't want to be locked up again, Nnoitra just telling him to live with it. Ichigo sighed, doing his best to stop himself from turning around and kick at the door in irritation. A hand moved over his now scarred, tattered face.

'_King, you have to stop being afraid!'_ The white hollow within growled; irritation clear. 'We're nailing them good with the mask, but why won't you let us transform again?'

"Because I don't like it!" Ichigo immediately answered; no hesitation in his voice.

'_Ah come on! It went bad the first time we tried it! I told you already to stop thinking everything is easy! You're not a shinigami anymore! Everything won't flow your way now. You have to work to get good. Let the beast roam free Ichigo, let yourself roam free on the battle field.'_ There was a brief silence, to which Ichigo removed his weapon from his shoulder and flopped down on the bed with a tried groan.

'_Look. We were loosing focus last time; you were panicking too badly when the transformation had fully taken form! I couldn't contain it with you going haywire!'_

'Well excuse me for not liking becoming a goddamn monster!' Ichigo sat up in his bed, his fists clenched, anger once more starting to pump through him.

'_You're already a monster! Remember all the people we ate? Eating people when they're still warm pretty much goes as a monster in your book doesn't it? So stop not wanting to be one, because you already are! How many times do I have to say it? It won't be so bad if you stop __crying__!'_

'What? You're gonna say I'm a coward next? I won't fall for the same trick twice.' Ichigo's eyebrows furrowed.

'_Oh come on! I knew what happened with the arm as little as you did! And when we went completely hollow nothing went wrong except for you disturbing me!'_

'Stop making it sound like it's my entire fault!' Ichigo growled, his face pulling together in a snarl, even if no words left his mouth.

'_Well it is, you moron!'_

"Fuck you!" Ichigo screamed.

'_Stop thinking it's a bad thing __and __it won't break again! Stop being a nervous wreck!'_

'Go away! I'm not listening!' Ichigo spat and pushed his hands over his ears, as if to the block the hollows words out.

'_Like that is going t-'_ But as Shirosaki shouted again, Ichigo started moving his hands over his hears in a rhythmic movement and at the same time he made loud sounds, his noise and slamming on his ears tuning out the hollow's words. He kept on screaming and moving his hands even when he felt cold hands pull him down into the inner world.

'_Shut up!'_

Ichigo was punched in the face by a white fist. _"You want to become stronger or not, you asshole!"_

"You know the answer as much as I do! Of course I do! But not with your methods!" Ichigo spit, gabbing his face. He moved his tongue over his teeth, satisfied when he felt no teeth missing. But as his eyes moved to looked at the other, he had to squint, the endlessly falling rain so thick he was already shivering.

"_Tch'!"_ The hollow sneered, crossing his arms. To Ichigo it seemed the white copy didn't seem to notice the biting water drops_. "You know I hold an offer you can't refuse! So don't even pretend you don't like it!" _Shirosaki drew his sword, the black cloth the sword was protected with swirling up and twisting in the wet air. Ichigo instantly drew back, grabbing his own weapon, but not unsheathing it.

"What are you doing?" He asked; his voice firm. The hollow lowered the weapon to the floor, slamming the tip into the ground and leaning against the dull side where it ended, using it as a support.

"_I'm going to give you another offer then."_ There was an irritated sigh. _"We transform, but you get to be the most in control, move everything and I'll do little to intervene. You'll still be King."_ There was a bow, to which Ichigo didn't know he was going to be insulted at or not.

"Last time you offered me something, my arm got stuck in this… this demonic form!" Ichigo moved to punch at the other, wanting to taste sweet revenge. But his arm was stopped by an equally clawed one. Ichigo's eyes widened when he saw it was just like his. White and black hand, the fingers armed with deadly claws.

"Y-you got it too?" He stammered, not expecting the hollow to be affected at all.

"_I'm you remember?"_ The hollow said; voice and expression serious_. "So why would I put you and me into any situation without being sure it won't kill us? I might not know fully how it works, but if I know it won't kill us, it will only make us stronger! I'm just as selfish as you are__,__ little King."_

"Tch'!"

"_And since I'm that selfish, I will make sure you know what powers I hold!"_ With that the white weapon was swung, cutting the water drops in half as it sliced through air. But Ichigo had expected it and easily dodged the sword. Swiftly he flash-stepped away, lading on another building. In less than a second the white counter part was up next to him.

"_Don't fight Ichigo. I know that you lack the ability to fully understand, but I'm doing my best to tell you, that there is no down side in this for you!" _An eerier smile spread over his lips and once again the large weapon was swung at the other.

Ichigo gritted his teeth and blocked. A foot came up and he kicked the hollow in the gut, making Shirosaki wheeze and stumbled backwards. To Ichigo's surprise the white one let go of his pallid sword, the steel clattering against the blue concrete.

"_Wanna fight like a man then?"_ He asked, the smile once again spreading over his lips and his tight first rose to his face, guarding. There was a shrill giggle. Ichigo growled and darted forward, letting his own sword go as he accepted the invitation without thinking. If it as a fight the bastard wanted, then it's a fight he'll get.

Shirosaki received a punch to the face, one that sent him tumbling backwards and he found his footing too late in the water puddles that flooded the buildings, sending him falling to the floor with the other one on top. They growled darkly and barred their teeth at each other as their eyes met.

But the hollow didn't let himself stay pushed against cold concrete for long and swiftly he brought up a clenched first to the others angry face. It gave Shirosaki the time get both hands to Ichigo's chest and swing him off himself hard. The teen went flying, landing painfully on his back where he growled. Quickly Ichigo rolled and rose from the round at same speed as his counter part. Both of them drew back, walking in a circle around each other, keeping a safe distance. Ichigo let out a low hiss at the panting Shirosaki, whom giggled in reply.

"I'm not going to let you turn me into a monster again." Ichigo mumbled, as he vaguely pointed a finger at the white mirror.

"_Oh, but I will!"_ There was a small smirk playing at Shirosaki's lips, as if he wanted to jump up and down laughing but held himself back_. "You suck, Ichigo. You forgot? I'm showing you how to use the power we both have, lending you my power so you won't suck as much. Why can't you see that! You will see there is nothing to be so goddamn afraid of! It's still you; only much, much more powerful! I'll make you see and lust for the power it holds and there is nothing you can do…"_ His voice had escalated into a shout at the end, but suddenly it turned into a low whisper. _"To stop it."_

Ichigo drew his hand back with an angry snarl and a quick movement of his feet he was up in the others face, sending a punch at Shirosaki's head firmly. But the hollow was fast, quickly dodging the blow with ease and rose up again, drawing his arms back to tilt his body backwards; once again dodging another quick hit from Ichigo. Just as fast as the orange haired teen, Shirosaki had sent his own attack for the orange haired boy's head, giving it a firm blow, which earned him an agonized, short yell. Shirosaki's other; humanoid hand, aimed for the same place, ready to collie with the skull again.

But Ichigo's eyes narrowed and in the nick of time he dodged and brought his stance to the left, giving him enough space to dodge the second blow and plant a good one himself in Shirosaki's face, who shouted in pain. The hit was hard enough to make the hollow's head snap to the side, his entire body following the momentum his head was sent.

But Shirosaki's feet held him firm; not letting himself fall and he took the force of the movement with him, to swing yet another clenched fist as he came back around at Ichigo. The white boy growled when Ichigo dodged and landed his own hit in the white face again, the lip there starting to sting painfully as it burst open. Angrily Shirosaki responded with an elbow to the others face, making Ichigo stagger with water splashing around him, instinctively grabbing his face.

Shirosaki took no chances and planted a foot in boy's gut when Ichigo's hands had no time to block. It sent him stumbling backwards even more, groaning in his throat painfully as he locked eyes with the hollow again. The orange haired teen received a large, mean smile, Shirosaki almost looking smug at his hard inflict of damage. Swiftly the hollow sent another kick at the former shinigami.

Ichigo groaned, doing his best to get up on shaky legs as blurred stars clouded his vision. Before he could get up however another firm blow impacted with his soft face. The boy grabbed his jaw in pain as he stumbled and almost fell again before he found his footing.

Taking the chance when Shirosaki was just starring at him in delight, Ichigo swung his hand into the others swollen face. Ichigo's skinny fingers firmly clamped around the white shoulder and Shirosaki was hurled away, Ichigo screaming himself from the force of the throw.

However he hadn't bothered to see where he had sent the hollow flying and it wasn't long until he was impaled by his own black sword. Shirosaki had grabbed for it and thrown it into the other's body, the cold steel impaling his shoulder. Ichigo screamed again, falling to his knees.

His breath was labored and harsh in his chest as his clawed hand firmly closed around the black handle. Gritting his teeth he pulled it out of himself, his entire body twitching forward as he did.

"F-fu-ck!" He hissed through clenched teeth. Oh god it hurt!

Water played against the steel as it landed carelessly on the drenched concrete floor. Ichigo moaned lowly and chipped for breath while hissing in pain. He worked hard to keep another scream inside when claws impaled the fresh wound. His brown eye glared at the black and yellow ones. A giggled replied.

"_I told you there was nothing you could do."_ The smile spread wider over the white, swollen face and Ichigo's vision was once again engulfed in darkness only to seconds later be replace with blinding white and searing pain. Unable to hold his agony inside anymore, the boy screamed, the roar so strong the thin glass on the blue skyscrapers shattered before Ichigo felt his mind being hurled to the surface of his mind.

Again there was a rush, his senses feeling like they were hit with a wave of adrenalin, like a veil had been lifted once again from them and out of his mouth he projectile vomited white skin. Quickly it crept its way across his body, over every scar and bruise, leaving white perfect skin behind.

He twisted and turned on the floor, writhing like a wounded animal. The boy gasped and he hyperventilated for air, furiously chewing at it as his body grew, muscles almost bursting with power. His body went limp and all control was lost from it as a pointy tail erupted from his behind. His mind tried to fight against the transformation, but there was nothing that would stop it now when it had started.

The large body of his slumped against the floor again, legs stretching, arms at his side, clawed fingers twitching every now and then. The tail lay limp, unmoving. A moan escaped him and he kept on chewing the air, black mouth opening and closing slowly, in a constant none stopping motion. Ichigo stared into the roof.

"Do you see it, Ichigo? See just how powerful we can be!" Ichigo's mouth suddenly moved, even if he himself wasn't talking, Shirosaki was, the insane grin spreading over his own lips. "Together, just you and me. Nothing separates us now and nothing snaps, nothing breaks!" There was a sneer. "Can you feel it, Ichigo? Can you feel it! _The power._" He purred out, the rough voice hardly making the words sound like a language.

Last time the boy transformed, he hadn't really through about it, much too focused on not being hacked into parts by his opponents. Now when there was nothing to draw his attention away, it felt odd, but in a good way he noticed. Or perhaps it was just his hollow playing tricks on his mind now he could hardly do anything to stop it from being read. Their body was completely one, each movement done by both, each breath made together.

A growl rumbled on the inside of his throat, his pale lips drawing back in a snarl behind the white mask. Quickly he turned on the floor, laying flat on his belly, his face pushing into the ground, hair tangling wildly over his broad back. Slowly he pushed himself into a hunched position. His body felt so odd. Ichigo stood, long claws scraping against the wooden floor.

Again the skin was radiating with thick black energy. At first his beady eyes had widened, in shock but as he realized it wasn't hurting, he figured it simply was his own energy. Ichigo tried to hide it, but he simply could not comprehend the size of it, thus making it impossible to still. But it didn't matter, it wasn't in the way he noticed, he could see through it as if it wasn't there. Clawed hands twitched and the boy took a step forward, testing. He felt nothing different from before, only perhaps that he now stood on his toes with ease. Well, claws, he corrected himself. His eyes fluttered shut and Ichigo sat down on the bed, it forming after his body, the tail folding up at the wall. He leaned forward, grabbing his head in his hands, hair hanging in front of his face. He opened and closed his black mouth again, chewing at the air.

It was so strange, it was as if he couldn't sit still, his body bursting with energy that he didn't know where it came from. It wasn't long until he stood again, walking up to his small chair to sit down, finding it difficult with his massive tail taking up most of the space the furniture held. The boy tested his monstrous body in simple ways, walking and just simply moving. It was unsettling but yet, something entirely else.

"Well?" His mouth suddenly hissed.

Ichigo didn't know what to say, the black energy that now almost consumed the entire room somehow comforting, as it moved and swirled along his hard, skeleton skin. It was invigorating, the burst of power that he could feel no end off. It seemed to fill the hole in his chest, making the blackness there even darker. A pleased sigh escaped him. It pushed the agony away, as the beast was no longer forced to stay only there, but now roamed free in every part of Ichigo's body, the agony and urge to close it lessened considerably. It was like a heavy weight had been lifted.

"Yesss, yess…" Ichigo moaned and hissed, arms squirming around his abdomen and chest. Vibrations went through his skin as he touched it, the sharp claws streaking the un-breaking skin. It tingled nicely.

It was as if the energy filled his desiccated veins, forcing them open to breath again, even if was just energy, it was so much better than nothing. But no matter how good it felt, he still drew back in a frightened shriek, pushing up against the wall when he had entered the toilet to watch his reflection in the mirror. He grabbed for his weapon, but realized it was in the other room. As his mind wished for him to run, he felt Shirosaki keeping his body firm and forcing his head to turn to look at the reflective glass.

"Look at us!" His mouth commanded.

Ichigo held back a gasp and looked, his eyes not closing when he tried to do so. His skinny body was now large, the clothes he wore sitting tight around him. Slowly he leaned forward, Shirosaki granting him all access of control again. His clawed hand drew over the glass, thin lines appearing in it. It wasn't long until his hand traveled to his mask. He had never seen it in a mirror before.

The grin was large, going as wide as he had seen his hollow simile, impossibly wide to his standards. But then again what was impossible now? He himself had just changed shape for the second time. Turned into what? He could hardly tell what he was now as he rose from the floor, looking his body over. A lizard? His eyes went to his hair, no mane. A lion?

Was this his other form? Was this him…? A hand lay over the cloth that covered his chest again. Was this what the empty space in his chest wanted to force him into? Was this really him…? Himself?

"Beeeautiful." His mouth hissed again lowly. _'We're beautiful, can't you feel it?'_ There was only a black gap behind the fangs of the mask.

A sigh came next; a low murmur. Ichigo didn't know what to say; to say yes or scream about how hideous he was. How could he, that struggled so much to help and do the right thing, turn into something so cruel looking, into something with such a selfish and evil smile? Was he really like his hollow said, so selfish that it reflected onto his inner face? A cruel beast? Was his inside nothing but sin? He left the large mirror's side, sorrow mixing with the black energy in his chest.

Monster, monster, _monster…_

"Fine. I won't deny it anymore." There was a brief silence. "I am nothing more than a selfish monster that does nothing else but to strive for self-preservation."

As Ichigo confessed his dark, unwanted truth to himself, no matter how wrong it sounded, he couldn't escape the dark horror that boiled and writhed inside of him. Forcefully he forced himself away from his hollow despite it purring to Ichigo it was nothing to be ashamed off.

_'You just keep tearing, little King and I make the hate!'_ There was a deranged laughter echoing in his skull as the white bone skin left him, crumbling away into heaps of white shells that soon designated into useless particles.

The thick black energy stayed in the room, still gracing the boy's sad frame. Ichigo leaned over the bed, sinking into the soft mattress. His mind felt defeated, realization hitting him again for, hell, he didn't know how many times he had realized it without wanting to see. Now he simply had to, the truth was too obvious now. He could not look away.

At least he hadn't felt like he was dying this time, if that was any comfort. Ever so thin legs moved tight to Ichigo chest, and he rocked back and forth. He wanted to cry, to disappear in a pathetic heap and never rise again, never to see what he was ever again. He did not wish to be what he was.

He was a kind person… or so he had thought. But even so he held onto that cherished thought, that he was not what he seemed to be. Maybe under all the dark water that he was trapped beneath, there still was something of his old self buried beneath the muddy ground. Oh, how he wished there was, underneath all the people he had killed and wounded, that there was a glimmer of his lost sun that still shone.

Brown eyes clamped shut, his tattered and sunken in face pulling together. Would he be strong enough to pull all those memories up of dead rotten men and females, push past all the horrors he had done to survive and reach out for that almost dead star? His throat clogged, his doubt on that question strong, but even so he would not forget it, and keep on swimming to the bottom until the harpoon barbs ripped from his impaled body.

With a shaking breath Ichigo left the bed, moving to the floor and moved in under it, the darkness there was thick and welcoming. Glad that his hollow did nothing more than to lull him to sleep with low hums of inaudible sound Ichigo knew were about unlimited power, he tried to get well needed rest.

**End of Chapter**


	24. Transition

**Chapter 24: Transition**

The next day battle once more commenced; whenever the tired boy wanted it or not. Would it never end? Probably not Ichigo guessed bitterly as he was pushed through hot desert sand and dust until he once again was in the white, large training hall. He hated the building, so much he wanted to tear it down. His swollen and darkly rimmed eye blinked wearily, he was too tired for this, but complaining was out of the question. But if he showed them he could transform now, would they stop pushing him ever closer to the precipice?

To his surprise there was a warm-up gap between the real fighting where Ichigo was allowed to move around, do sit-ups and run a bit to get his muscles working since his stiff sleep under the bed. But as he was busy doing push-ups on one arm, he suddenly heard the other two call the names of their swords.

He quickly got up from the floor, darting for his own sword he had leaned up against the wall to easier do his warming up. But he wasn't fast enough he knew that, not now when the others had released and he himself didn't even hold his black weapon. Just as his fingers grazed the white cloth of his weapon, a foot collided with his abdomen. Instantly he bent over, his mouth flying up and he went hurling away from the force of the massive blow. He skidded along the floor, his pale skin burning hot at the friction with the ground.

Ichigo's eyes darted back and forth in their sockets and in a blur he hardly saw the incoming, black steel. He twisted his body, his torso bending backwards in a left direction, just narrowly avoiding the weapon. It left a fine slit across his throat, just where the torture-collar ended.

Bastard had taken his cleaver.

"Hey, give Zangetsu back!" Ichigo screamed, his hands curling into fists.

"Oh! Why don't you come and get it instead!" There was a laugh and Grimmjow moved to stand on the floor, holding the sword up with a little difficultly as it was heavier than he expected. Ichigo growled and swiftly he forced his body to flash-step, his frame a fast blur. But Grimmjow easily moved his arm out of the boy's reach.

"Give it back!" Ichigo snarled, saliva flying from his black mouth and he clawed at the other. Four fine slits appeared over Grimmjow's chest, despite its skeleton armour like skin. Grimmjow's eyes narrowed and he jumped away, not going to be near the boy now. But before he could move to jump into the air and shout another mean comment at the boy, the sword in his hand was taken away. Sharp claws cut him again, tearing his hand open.

His eyes met with beady yellow ones, the mask once again over the pale kid's face. Before the Espada could react, Ichigo had claimed his cleaver and hacked at Grimmjow's arms; sliced and cut after cut making the bone skin break away and expose the soft flesh beneath on his arms. The heavy cleaver seemed to almost cut on its own as Ichigo swung it like it had no weight at all.

Grimmjow was starting to feel cornered and concentrated his spirit energy into his arms, in an attempt to knock Ichigo off. But the boy wouldn't; he kept on hacking ever so furiously. But as the orange haired kid noticed that he couldn't strike thought the bone as well enough as he wanted in his current form, he tilted Zangetsu and so he sliced all the flesh clean from the bone beneath instead, as if peeling the skin off an apple. The arrancar screamed and sprinted out of the boys reach, but Ichigo was hot on his heels with a flash-step of his own.

"Don't you dare to take our sword ever again!" He hissed lowly from behind his white mask, his face near the Espada's, whose small pupils seemed to contact even more as he had not expected the boy to come at him so fast.

"Getsuga Tenshō."

The blast was enormous; light blue, screaming energy erupting from the blade. The wave charged, striking the 6th Espada head on. Ichigo could hear the man scream and with a harsh loud sound collide with the floor.

'_Don't fool around King; show them your true self.'_ The boy didn't have anytime to protest as he once again he found himself inside his inner world, his eyes meeting with the black sun before he whirled around, his eyes meeting with an incoming white weapon.

"Do we have to!"

"Yes and you know it! You know they won't stop until you show them!" The sword was one again punctured pale flesh. "And this sure isn't the time to be asking questions!"

The transformation started, but the mere second the boy had hung limply in the air, all connection with the body gone, had been enough for the 5th Espada that had not engaged in battle yet to strike. Nnoitra wasted no time, his sonido easily fast enough to hit before the boy could burst out with a blast of energy.

Striking the boy with all force he could muster over the head, he sent the body flying like a ragdoll in to the nearest wall. The boy's mind resurfaced in the middle of the movement, his eyes widening as his body was paralyzed as it changed form. Pain seared through his skull, his mind numb and seeming not to respond.

But as the boy slumped against the ground, his body twitching, the spine curling uncontrollably outside his body and his feet tore his shoes apart. The world spun, his skull cracked from the impact of the wall. His body smeared in skin as it unevenly covered him. It hung loosely at some places, his mind jumbled and Ichigo did his best to make it continue, despite his mind's dizzy state. But he couldn't, Shirosaki having a hard time staying on the surface without being pulled back down into the inner world.

'W-what's happening!' Ichigo though desperately, he couldn't comprehend his surroundings as he tried to rise from the floor, only to fall again and his body going numb.

"You're fucking it up!" Grimmjow suddenly sounded; his voice more than harsh to Ichigo. He stood next to Nnoitra, grabbing his wounded side, the blast he had taken burning and tearing up gashes over most of his body. Both of the Espada watched the boy's twitching body below them. Eventually Ichigo managed to cancel the transformation, leaving a scrawny panting body behind, the monster all gone.

There was a disappointed sigh coming from the tallest of them all, Nnoitra canceling his released state. Grimmjow wasn't far behind with doing the same.

"Guess that's all for today… fucking kid sucks I tell you!" Nnoitra shouted as he left, pulling his half moon-shaped weapon along with him. His disappointment easily infected Grimmjow.

"You hear that, brat?" Grimmjow said as he walked up to the boy, leaning over to help the heap off the floor. "You fucking suck."

The Espada was earned with a shove and he let go, Ichigo sending off a warning zap of energy. A low hiss escaped him. "Don't touch us!"

"Fine, whatever!" Grimmjow spat, waiting with a growl for the boy to get up. Ichigo did, glaring angrily at the other.

"We can find the way back ourselves!"

Ichigo crawled in under his bed, where he curled into a ball. His body tingled unpleasantly and he grabbed at his limbs, trailing his human hand over his head, the back of it still covered in white skin, his hair sticking out here and there from it. It didn't want to leave as Ichigo fingered at it, it most probably holding the broken skull together.

What had just happened had been scary, to say the least. It was as if he had been lost in between himself and the real world, unable to move in any way. No way in or out. It had burned so horrible too, as if he got scorched by fire. He bit his lip, a feeling of worry eating at him. Would it happen again?

But no matter how long he lay wondering in the dark, he only came up with the option that he simply had to become faster. He didn't want to risk being nailed like that again, not ever. If it had been in the real human world, he would have been long gone and probably back in Soul Society to be put to trail for treason and then killed, executed and blown out of existence.

He had after all committed those crimes after eating his own heart. And hadn't he been accused for the possibility on joining Aizen for being a Vizard? Ichigo snorted; well at least their word had rung true, even if it wasn't for the reason they had thought.

"Come on! Transform already!" Grimmjow shouted, standing in the training room once more.

A shove to the face and a punch in the gut and Ichigo staggered back. He didn't want to fight, not now. He wanted to be back in his quiet quarters, getting much needed rest. Ichigo was too tried, to worn and feeling to old and dried out. He had no power left to fight with. He wanted to get away, thus it wasn't long until the skinny boy did something he hadn't been doing for a long time, but had learned to be very good at. Running away.

He darted for the large white doors, his thin legs pumping against the just as white floor to reach his destination. The gate slowly itched closer, but like last time with his sword, he was shoved away from his goal. It wasn't long until he was moved into the back of the building like he was a sheep being herded by two angry monsters.

"Release!" Grimmjow shouted in anger and irritation clear in his voice. "Release now! Or I'll slit your fucking throat!" He wrenched one of Nnoitra's scythes away from the Espada, only to lift it, ready to slice the boy's sinewy throat.

Ichigo quickly backed up against the wall, keeping a sharp eye on both of them. His already damp back was pushed flat against it, his thin clothing leaving behind a trail of sweat. He knew jumping over the two would be no hope of escape, he knew it was expected and would only lead to injury.

His hands were sweaty as well as they clenched a little harder around Zangetsu's hilt and his breath harsh. It didn't seem like the Espada were here for fun this time; not at all. The sudden change in action was unexpected for him. For once they seemed to really want to hurt him. They seemed agitated, stomping closer with furious steps like they just wanted the teen in front of them to go away. Now.

Was it a trick or for real? His amber eyes narrowed, he couldn't tell, even as their energy pushed at him, trying to force him to collapse on to the ground. But the boy didn't let it get to him; doing his best to level it out with his own. Forcefully he tried to blast the others away, but it didn't do much in their overpowered monster shapes. His grip once more tightened on the blade as they drew neared, their forms threatening.

_'You can defeat them…'_ low whispers reminded him from within. That he was strong; he was a creature just like them. A monster.

With a shout his transformation blasted out, stronger than the other times and both of the Espada in front of him were shot back, their feet gliding over the floor, a shrill sound echoing form the friction. Out of the black abyssal energy that flared and engulfed the place where the boy had been standing, white clawed skeleton-like hands slashed. Sharp and deadly.

Nnoitra immediately swung his weapons, all of them aiming for the white beast that came leaping right at him. But the once small boy was too fast, a thin tail wrapping around the Espada's throat to hold him still and before the 5th could react, black steel ran him through. Pain ripped through Nnoitra as the sword hacked its way out to the right, downward through the lungs and out of the soft side of his lower abdomen. A bone shrilling scream escaped and echoed in the room.

The white claws let go of the mantis-like man, who collapsed to the ground, grabbing at his massive wound with his many hands. However he didn't let his eyes off the boy, monster looming closer, every breath escaping his body coated in black uncontrolled energy. Ichigo's body shook from the strain of energy, his body even stronger now when pumped with so much adrenaline he through his muscles might burst. His mind reeled, ecstatic from the unimaginable strength as he threw himself at his target.

But from the right blue flashed, Grimmjow's slim body gliding through air and landing on the now broad back of the boy, only to find his pawed feet impaled with sharp curved spikes, same with his hands when he had tried to grab for the boy's shoulders, the spikes there unstringing his fingers.

Before he had the change to jump off and away from the pain however, a firm grip was over his wrist joint. A shove to the face and a punch in the gut like he had done to Ichigo just moments before sent Grimmjow slumping to the ground. His steel skin had been crushed, his organs screaming in pain and couldn't keep the screech inside his mouth.

A white strong hand grabbed his skull, claws pushing into his skin. The teal haired Espada lifted his head, only to meet with emotionless, beady yellow eyes that seemed to burn like two dying suns. A snarl escaped the skeleton masked face before Grimmjow had the time to react to see Ichigo's clawed first slam into the arrancar's face. It hammered into the blue haired skull several times, making the head thump against the ground. The 6th Espada was down, out cold and barely breathing.

Urges washed over the boy, gruesome wants to smash his face in even more, to break his teeth, shatter his jaw and make it impossible for Grimmjow to spit out mean comments again.

But a sudden unmerciful thug at Ichigo's long silky air made his face snap back and abruptly he let go of the 6th Espada, the pull hard enough to almost make him fall over. A short and sharp yell escaped Ichigo as he was wrenched around, the mantis Espada apparently not out of the counts just yet.

Nnoitra's beady fingers slipped inside the holes of Ichigo's eyes as his head was still forced backwards. The Espada violently pulled at the boy's mask, trying to rip it off his face. Ichigo screamed, the shout filled with pain as his entire face burned and scorched, like it was melting beneath lava.

The white monster twisted and turned his shoulders and forcefully swung his hips right and left, trying to shake the insect-man off him. But the many arms held the other firm on top of him, as he had left his scythes lying on sweat covered ground.

They both trashed around in a violet dance of getting each other off. Ichigo screamed and quickly moved backwards and slammed his back into the wall, forcefully trapping Nnoitra between it and himself. Having not seen where they were going, the blow had been hard and unexpected enough to blow the air out of Nnoitra. Abruptly he let go and fell to the ground with a soft thud.

But he hadn't let go of Ichigo with all his hands, one still holding firmly on to the orange mane. Ichigo fell to a knee at first, his entire body wrenched to the ground with the sharp pull of his hair. The many arms tangled around, fingers burring into his bone-skin so hard Ichigo was sure dark bruises would appear. The many extremities tangled around him like ropes, one clawing at his mask again.

Ichigo could hear the bright, yet grunting and harsh voice of Nnoitra's breath in his ear, hard and fast, the hint of exhaustion was clearly there, the wound in the 5th's side draining him from energy in massive doses with each breath.

Screaming, Ichigo brought up his clawed hands, tearing violently at the one that was at his face and backed into the wall again, once more piercing the other between himself and the white wall. But this time Nnoitra didn't let it get to him, not matter how hard Ichigo slammed into it again and again with angry screams and snarls.

Twisting and moving away from the wall Ichigo started running, his muscular legs taking large hard steps, his claws ripping streaks in the floor as he gained speed. His arms left the hand on his face, instead grabbing the ones that were trying to drill holes in his soft abdomen and pulled the 5th closer to his back.

Nnoitra, who had sensed the boy's intentions tried to pull away, tried to wrench his body free from the spikes that drilled into his skin with no mercy. But he couldn't, Ichigo's arms were broader and stronger than his own. With a shout Ichigo leaped, turning in the air despite the weight on his back and with the momentum of the speed he had gathered, he threw himself into the wall.

A loud crash was heard as the stone walls shook and strained, doing their best to not collapse, despite a good chunk of it already gone and left to fall to the cold white ground. Dust flew and danced in the air, coiling and turning in its decent. No sound came from the pile of rocks, even as it suddenly moved, white fingers slowly reaching for the surface beneath the rubble.

Spikes appeared, slowly pushing the remains of the wall off and Ichigo heaved himself out of the rumble, falling at the last part and landing on his. His chest heaved, lungs filled with dust and small rocks.

But even so the boy rose to his feet again, no matter how many black dots that were dancing in front of his eyes. Rigidly he turned around, heading to the left of the pile and spotted a thin, unmoving hand sticking out from between two square shaped forms of stone. His own claws sank into the skin of it, harshly pulling the body out until it laid in the floor, the Espada clearly unconscious.

Slamming a clawed foot down on the mantis-like man's chest and holding his own arms out, he screamed, a monster's howl tearing trough the building, shaking the earth as he claimed his victory with his roar. The rush of victory was intense, the roar one of triumph and again he inhaled, one more massive guttural roar erupting within the walls.

Even as his breath was harsh, a smile spread over the trembling limps beneath the mask as his foot slid down from the body in front of him. Every step he took was hard; he couldn't walk straight or stop the twitching as he left the two quiet and mutilated forms behind. The skeleton skin fell off him, the tail and bone-hide swiveling away.

On the way out of the large building, Ichigo hit a large red button, which read 'Emergency' on top of it, hoping it would send paramedics. Not so selfish after all was he? The smile twitched back on his face. For once he walked across the white, windy desert on his own, walked to his quarters on his own where the door opened, letting him in as soon as he was near.

Sweat run steadily from every part of his body along with sand that clung to his hair like dandruff. His body still trembled as it was tried beyond anything he had ever felt. But the glee of wining burned hot within, his mind still rushed and his eyes still wide, his yellow irises glowing in their dark pools of black.

It wasn't long until Ichigo was under warm water from the shower, it gradually cleaning his body free from filth. The long hair hung in front of his eyes and feeling heavy as it sucked up the water surrounding him. It twisted over his back and arms and it didn't take long until a frustrated grunt left the small drenched shower cabin.

Stepping out, Ichigo fumbled with the towels, trying to dry himself. Accidentally he tore one almost in half when moving it over his right, spiked shoulder. Frowning he wrapped one towel around his hip before he went into the main room of his quarters and grabbed his cleaver again to once more mercilessly start cutting away the long hair.

Back in under the bed with several pills against a pounding headache that flared, Ichigo slowly snuggled into the floor, the hard surface cold and welcoming against his half naked body. It soothed his skin, that he could already feel bruising and discoloring.

Nevertheless Ichigo couldn't help but lie and feel rather satisfied. Finally he had nailed the bastards. Fast too he had to admit. He had been the one to triumph.

He considered his released hollow form to be rather normal. Not too big changes in his anatomy, no hideous strange growth or anything. Well, maybe his tail. Maybe he was the least monster of them? Not like that Nnoitra guy… The though brought him some comfort, enough for a sigh to escape bruised lips.

That night the boy actually slept, no matter how much he twisted and turned beneath the bed. But as he woke up, he still didn't feel rested. He felt sick and disoriented. Not sure why, he rose from the bed on wobbly feet, the world swaying. Slowly he sat down on his chair, grabbing at his head as he leaned his bare upper body against the cold chairs surface.

His deathly pale skin glowed faintly white in the moonlit room. Ichigo searched for something to look at, but the sky held no stars to see.

It gave him no comfort as he massaged his eyes, that had turned back to white and auburn. Sudden lurches in his stomach made him lean forward, the sick feeling not wanting to pass. But as Ichigo sat with his mouth gaping open and gasping for breath, there was a single harsh knock on the door before it opened.

An irritated growl escaped Ichigo as soon as he saw Grimmjow come in, his face red and swollen. His growl sounded like mush, his vision blurry. What was wrong with him? The world slowly blurred more and more and it felt like he was getting water in his eyes. He pulled a hand through his hair, was it still wet? No it wasn't.

"Geesh, I can do whatever I please," Grimmjow grinned.

Ichigo scoffed at that. What was he doing here anyway? No one ever visited, or was it just because he had won now? _Pfft_, what a shallow guy.

Ichigo hissed, as he rose from the chair. But all of a sudden his skinny body felt like it was melting; his mind like it was disappearing. He stumbled over, falling to the floor in a heap.

Grimmjow, whom seemed oblivious to Ichigo's fall, was saying something in the background, something about that he could do whatever he pleased, but he couldn't really tell. Everything was changing colour; grey tinting the side of his vision. Was he starving? No, his chest wasn't roaring at him. Nor was there any pain and Grimmjow seemed to behave as if nothing was happening. What was going on…?

The world seemed to fall away from him, his mind loosing contact with everything. The ground felt like it was moving, shaking and then turning into quicksand. The wood beneath the white floor broke up, its brown surface seeming to consume everything.

Fret filled Ichigo's being as he slipped through the melting wood, down into the ground where he found nothing else but his dreaded, metaphorical black water. Without warning the icy water sprayed up, so cold that it felt like an electrical shock, halting Ichigo's every movement for a few seconds, locking his breath inside is lungs.

The boy gasped for breath, but it felt like someone had punctured his lung and the eating floor slipped inside them like a disease. The water was unbelievably icy and Ichigo felt the warmth pump out of his body as if it was blood gushing out from a severed artery.

Ichigo reached out with a hand, which to his surprise was humanoid, desperately trying to reach for the surface he couldn't even see and his body trashed and turned like a coiling snake. He couldn't swim, not when his body was so cold and so stiff.

What came for his rescue from beneath the deep depths was not the blue haired man that had been in the room with him. The hand that met with his was large and soft, one that held a firm, but gentle grip over his own trembling one.

Frantically he grabbed for the hand he didn't know who it belong to. What was happening…? What was happening! He couldn't understand.

Suddenly there was pain; like a new fresh harpoon had run him through, right after he broke the surface of the thick, muddy water that engulfed him. Vomit sprayed from his mouth, stopping his yell from leaving his pained throat. Desperately he tried to crawl away.

Coughing harshly, Ichigo stared around himself without being able to focus on the blurry shapes. He found himself in a bed, not that he knew why and how he knew it. His disorientation was so strong the fright in his gut bit ever harder, like a leech that refused to let go.

His head felt like it was ripping itself open and Ichigo screamed in a try to wrench away from the shape of a humanoid person that was standing over him. He trashed and turned, but his limbs hardly moved with him, the prison in the bed unyielding.

"Ichigo, lay still! You have to rest!"

The voice was harsh and loud, but Ichigo recognized it instantly. His father? What… How! Ichigo gurgled thought the goo in his mouth, froth spraying from it.

"What…?" He breathed. "W-where are we…?" What the hell had happened? He tried to look through his blurry vision, to see where he was. What had happened to his quarters in Hueco Mundo?

"Ichigo." That voice belonged to his father, he was sure. "You're home. In your room."

**End of Chapter**


	25. Awaken

**Chapter 25: Awaken**

The Kurosaki Clinic stood silent in the windy afternoon and the trees in the garden rustled and bowed to the winds commands. Inside the green wooden walls of the house, on the second floor, Ichigo struggled.

He pushed a weak arm against his fathers strong one, trying to shove him away so he could get out of the bed he lay in.

"You have to lie still! You were attacked, came home through the window," his father told him.

But… What? Ichigo leaned back, his entire body slumping against the bed. When had that happened?

_Oh no_… They had been thrown out of the house. It all flashed over him, the cold rain, the finding of his soul-removal pills, the dimly lit food-stand. Shinigami had attacked! Yes… they had come… how many? He couldn't remember. But they had been slain and devoured to remove all trace of him ever being there.

The body… Oh God, the body had been hurt so bad! The entire arm had been cut open! One of his legs had been stabbed deep. It had hurt so much, every step had been so hard he hadn't even managed to take one without his inner demons help. They had struggled. A window and then darkness.

"Ichigo, you have a fever. You need to rest," Isshin's voice was soft and gentle now.

Ichigo blinked wearily. He was back home, in his bed. It had all been a feverish dream of the horrors he had gone through before. A dreadful memory he didn't want. A throaty groan escaped him.

His vision was too blurry to even make out his father well, all he could really see was those glowing eyes and blurry dark contours. He felt a wet cloth move over his mouth and face, his father cleaning him free from sticky vomit.

His clothes were carefully removed; lukewarm air sweeping over his bare chest and the warm, wet cloth was moved over it, cleaning him. Slowly Ichigo felt the cloth move towards his left arm, and then oddly disappear. Another shirt or a hospital grown or whatever it was, was carefully put over him and the covers were tucked back.

Isshin had talked to him, small words here and there that Ichigo hadn't really heard. His ears were ringing and his headache was murderous, blocking out all rational thought. All he could do was to stare ahead through half lidded eyes and try to get his vision to clear. He tried to relax and ignore the scary numbness of his body. Fatigue grasped him and it hadn't taken long for him to fall asleep again.

Slowly he woke up sometime later, groggy and unsure of when as he had no sense of time in the dark room. But the room held familiar look and scent that Ichigo tried to handle as something safe, tried to convince himself he could rest here, despite being in the real world.

Looking around slowly he noticed his vision was much clearer now and his mind wasn't as sluggish as it had been. With a groan he tried to sit up, ignoring the protests of his body. What made him stop though was not the pain, but rather the lack of it.

Immediately he removed the cover that lay over him to find his body dressed in white hospital clothes. His left arm lay over his stomach, wrapped in white band-aids, that went from the tips of his fingers to his shoulder and secured over his upper chest.

Pale lips parted ever so slightly as he slowly removed the covers entirely from the left side of his body, finding one of the skinny legs there bandaged heavily as well and some sort of hard support was warped around it, held in place with large Velcro straps. Instantly his mouth was closed again, forming a thin line in his face as worry began to eat at his soul.

One of the shinigami had cut him with his blade right? Poison, there had been poison that had turned his flesh the shade of sickening purple…

As he moved shaky fingers over the plastic support, he heard someone step inside. Lifting his head, he saw his fathers worried face from the hallway looking like he asked for permission to step inside.

"What happened to us…?" Ichigo asked in a whisper, unable to stop himself. His fathers answer was not immediate; instead he slowly walked over to Ichigo's black chair and sat down. A light sigh escaped him, making Ichigo's eyebrows furrow.

"I'm sorry to tell you… but since your body was already in such bad state when you left the house, the water that got into your leg along with the poison caused an instantaneous infection. I had to operate as fast as I could…" Isshin paused, but not long enough for his son to talk.

"It looks pretty bad I'm afraid; some muscles strings were severed…" Isshin moved a hand through his beard. "I've put you on antibiotics but I don't know how your leg will turn out. I-I don't know if you will be able to walk properly again," Isshin did his best to keep his voice calm and professional. He had told injuries alike or worse to patients before, but never had it been this hard as it was now. His face strained as muscles worked to keep still, despite the ranging emotions that wanted to contort it.

"Your arm looks better thought, but not great either. I do think you may at least be able to use it just fine in a month or two. You'll have to have it in a sling and bandaged at all time until then I'm afraid, since I had to stitch the wound together."

Ichigo said nothing, his brain not wanting to process what he had just heard his father say as he lay down in the bed again.

He wouldn't be able to walk properly again? Not walk…? To his horror the only thing his thoughts formed was the image of a wheelchair that soon grew into a horrid monster that restricted him of all movement, ensnared and trapped him with its steel bars. Pierced through his every muscle and bone, drilled into his spine, paralyzing.

"Ichigo," Isshin's rather concerned voice didn't seem to reach him. His son had stopped moving, his eyes half lidded yet panic stricken. Worried, Isshin grabbed his son's wrist; trying to make his son come back to him. Lightly he shook it.

"Ichigo, it's going to be alright." He said; his voice strong as he found the rhythm of his son's pulse fast, but nothing to worry about. Twitching, Ichigo blinked and inhaled sharply before he looked over to find his father holding his left wrist carefully. Isshin's hand contrasted sharply in colour against his body.

"Dad?"

Isshin looked at his son, noting the slight hint of panic in the boy's voice as he tilted his head up off the pillow. "Yes, Ichigo?"

"You're touching our arm…" He breathed out, voice tense.

"Yes. I've found that's helpful when taking a pulse," Isshin's eyebrows furrowed as he looked at Ichigo questioningly. Ichigo's breathing increased and the little colour he had drained from his face.

"What is it?" Isshin quickly asked, worry biting harder at him at the reaction.

"We can't feel our arm. We can't move it either!" Ichigo said, his eyes widening. "Dad, we can't feel our arm!"

"You're still on morphine Ichigo, it hasn't left your body yet so it can take a while for the feeling and movement to return. Tomorrow it will probably be all gone," Isshin stated, hoping his words rung true. "Then I'll see if I can stop you on the heavy pain-relievers and only got with the lighter ones."

Ichigo frowned but looked away and bit his lip, his right hand coming up to his face for him to look at, and then back to his father. "But we can move the other one just fine."

"We will have to wait until tomorrow and see Ichigo."

Ichigo sighed, not knowing what to say as he slipped further into the bed, feeling groggy still. He knew the disturbing news of his condition had yet to sink in. And so did his father it seemed as he stayed with him for a while, sitting quietly next to his painfully thin form. Ichigo said nothing and after half an hour or so had passed with Isshin not saying anything, letting his son speak if he wanted to, he left telling Ichigo he needed to rest.

Isshin pondered, trying to summarise all medical knowledge had ever acquired. Yet he could find no clue on the paralysis to his Ichigo's arm. Maybe it was the trauma? But that was an odd place to get a periodic paralysis… But Ichigo had gotten migraines, one that didn't seem to one want stop at any medication. It didn't sound right to him. But he knew he wasn't one to make assumptions too hastily, he had to remind himself that he did not know what Ichigo had been up to for almost half a year.

Periodic paralysis… Oh, how he hoped to God, even as he as a shinigami knew there was none, that it was only that; temporary…

Once more a hand moved through his bread and he pushed his fingers into his eyeballs.

Isshin headed down stairs, worry still corroding his troubled form. Ichigo was anything but fine and he knew it. He didn't know what to say to Ichigo either, knowing that what had happened wouldn't be easy for the boy to cope with.

He didn't know exactly what his son had went through for all the long months he had been gone, but he knew it had been something horrible or worse and he obviously hadn't wished to return back here. Isshin guessed the place of the living was a place of bad memories. Or whatever wished Ichigo to leave was still here, pushing at him and his actions, hard enough for him to turn on his sister.

That attack, if Isshin dared to could call it that, had seemed odd; the extreme change it had done in his son's way of acting troubling. Had it been temporary? Or had it been a display for what he was becoming? Or for the worse, had become? Yielding to instincts so blindly it morphed him into something else?

Pouring warm coffee into an empty cup, Isshin's face was grim from troubled thoughts. Maybe he shouldn't have left Ichigo alone; he didn't know what Ichigo could do if he decide to hurt himself up there, in some desperate attempt to get away.

Isshin stopped on the spot for a few seconds, surprised at the thought. He never though he'd ever even think the thought that his son would do something like that; hurt himself on purpose. But now from what he had seen, he wasn't so sure anymore on leaving the thought out. He didn't know what his son would do when instincts pressed too hard…

Ichigo had had his periods of depression, there had been many of them since the death of Masaki, but Ichigo had always, as far as Isshin knew, managed through them without hurting himself in anyway, or anyone for that sole reason for that matter.

But that had been because of a strong will and heart. But Ichigo had lost his heart; he only had his will left that seemed to be slipping away from the hole in his body ever so slowly. The new problems couldn't make it any better, if only worse.

Both Isshin's hands moved over his face, his fingers pushing into his eyes again and he resumed his journey to the sofa. With a sigh the bearded man sipped at his coffee, wishing for the best to his son and hoped for a miracle to make it all better. But none came of course. The chance of that was as big as his beloved wife returning.

Masaki.

Silently he wondered what she would do now if she was here with him. His heart ached even more at the thought that she wasn't. She wasn't here now and hadn't been for, how long was it again six, seven years?

Six. Soon to be seven years of waking up in an empty bed every single day. No more comfortable weight resting near him. No more blond hair tangled in his fingers.

He felt like smoking. But not out of memory for his loved one, but for the miserable thought of getting nicotine into his system to help him calm down, to help pushing the gloomy thoughts away. Make the worry lessen.

The cigarette lighter put light to a flame and Isshin let it burn the tip for the white paper around the tobacco and inhaled. Smoke filled his lungs and moved through his veins, soothing him. He held the hand the way his wife loved and felt the cold wind of the outside where he stood ease his troubled mind. It made sleeping a little bit easier.

Ichigo himself did not manage to sleep. He lay awake long before dawn broke through the night.

He had to go to the toilet, to pee and had needed to go for quiet some time now as he had awakened from a half sleeping state by a pressure in his lower abdomen, one that he simply hadn't understood first. It hadn't even occurred to him until now that he hadn't done natures call for months. He knew he had a catheter in his urethra while his body had been connected to the respirator, but it was removed now and an easy escape to make the urge go away was out of his options.

Wishing the human body was like his soul, eating and then throwing up the leftovers, no need for a toilet or any bother alike, he moved to get out of bed. Just getting his injured left leg over the side of it was hard.

Slowly he took a small step, still catching his breath from the efforts spent to just rise to his feet, and without warning a surge of pain from his leg injury flared up, causing him to stop moving and inhale sharply through clenched teeth. The sedatives his father had had him on was leaving his system, he knew that.

He rocked from side to side at the hips with each step painfully. He stopped, all weight on the well leg, only his toes of the left leg grazing the floor. Ichigo's hand moved out, supporting himself against the wall.

'Just a few more steps…' He thought to himself, in a weak attempt to keep on moving, no matter how much of a struggle it was. After what felt like the longest of time he finally flopped down on the rim of the toilet, a pleased sigh leaving his lips quietly.

The struggle back to the bed was just as tough, his left arm flopping uselessly at his side. The steel holder for his IV was just in the way and no help at all in his struggle for his destination. Before him the wooden floor was endless, the journey there a great effort, every step a hassle. Finally there, the sweat soaked bed welcomed him with speared bedcovers, making it easy for the boy to tuck himself back in despite his restricted movements. With a troubled sigh, Ichigo closed his blood-shot and darkly rimmed eyes.

Morning came, whenever Ichigo noticed it or not as his face was covered with grey sheets to block out the sun and trying to sooth his headache that was slowly escalating. The shadows danced on the walls through the little gap between the blind there was.

It wasn't long until the door to the boy's room was open by a forceful and loud kick as his father stormed inside, joining the shadows ballet.

"Ichigo!" He roared and twirled around on the spot, taking his son's grey cover with him in the momentum and then stopped to put a tray down on his son's writing desk. "Now is not the time to be in dreamland!"

He was earned with a frustrated, tired groan.

"Now, now Ichigo." Isshin said, sitting down on the chair next to the bed, scooting it over close to the side. "It's time for medicine."

Tired eyes greeted him and Ichigo tried to stifle a yawn with little success. "What meds?" He mumbled; his hoarse voice barely audible.

"The ones that will keep you healthy! You will have to take these medicines regularly, because they will build up in the blood to levels that will fight the pain of inflammation and also give general pain relief. Making my son all the better in no time!"

Ichigo took the small plastic cup, eyeing three pills that held colours that displeased his eyes, but heaved them into his mouth and took the water his father offered him nevertheless. Silently he wondered how his father could be so full of energy this early, or so often. He himself had none. But even so he sat up a little fitfully as he saw the needle Isshin was filling with clear liquid from a small glass bottle.

"What's that?" His quiet voice almost disappeared at the end.

"Medicine!" Isshin beamed, apparently intending to keep playing extremely enthusiastic dad.

Isshin moved the light hospital clothes away from his son to reveal a small part of Ichigo's abdomen, near the hip on the right side. To his surprise he found spots, small discolorations in the skin. He moved a finger over it.

"Have you been given injections before…?" Isshin asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

His son fidgeted and pulled the clothing back over himself, hiding his skin and looked away without a word. But Isshin saw his shamed face before he could hide it beneath an emotionless one. Isshin couldn't help but to think of it as a mask.

"It's alright Ichigo. I won't get mad." He offered. Isshin watched his son bite his lip and slowly turn his head to look at the injection in Isshin's hand.

"We didn't do it ourselves. It was done when we were sleeping. We don't even know what it was!" Ichigo's eyes darted back and forth and he moved his hand over the hip area, as if trying to smooth out the discoloured skin so it wouldn't show. Isshin himself frowned and gently removed his son's pale, long hand and eyed the dotted skin again. It seemed to be old marks. "Was it a while ago?"

"Yes… couple of months… Maybe more, not sure." Ichigo squeaked, more than reluctant to tell his father what he had gone through. No way was he going to mention anything about the interrogation or anything alike. His father easily noticed it, it wasn't hard to see.

"Will you let me give you this pain revealing shot? It won't harm you, just lessen the pain. I want to give it to you now before the pain really hits you, because I'm pretty sure your leg will pain you." The mask returned to his son's face and there was a brief nod, to which Isshin slid the needle beneath the skin quickly.

"There, wasn't so bad now was it?" He offered, smiling and patting the spot where he had pinched the skin after moving the clothes back over it. Ichigo said nothing, not meeting his father's gaze.

Isshin placed the injection next to a deep china bowl that lay on the tray he had brought with him. Said plate and a spoon were soon offered to Ichigo and placed in the boy's lap, who eyed it suspiciously for a few seconds.

At first Ichigo did nothing with it, only looking at the thick soup and feeling its heat seep into his legs. Reluctantly he grabbed the spoon and to his light dismay noticed his hand was shaking a little beyond his control when he tried to keep the cutlery still. Frowning he did his best to consume the warm liquid without spilling.

Every slurp was a struggle to get anything into his mouth. Eventually he put the spoon aside and drank directly from the bowl. It was embarrassing to have his father watch, even if he knew Isshin wasn't actually staring at him, he was busy changing the intravenous drip. When he was done, he felt like vomiting, but he moved a hand over his mouth, swallowing the bile away.

"Ichigo," Isshin asked and the named boy met his father's just as brown eyes. "How's your arm doing, has any feeling returned?"

"We still can't move it."

"Try to wriggle your fingers," Isshin offered, grabbing gently at the arm after coming back around the bed to sit down on the chair.

Ichigo's frown deepened. "We can't. We can't even feel where you're holding our wrist!" Ichigo was now sitting up sharply in bed and practically shouting, fear edging his voice.

"Ichigo, calm down," Isshin laid Ichigo's arm back down on the bed and gently pushed him back to a lying position. The band aid was slowly and carefully removed, the so very pale skin beneath slowly meeting fresh air.

The boy stared, watched as the white fabric left his arm, the scar that ran along it never ending. With each new removed turn Ichigo hoped it would reveal the end of it, but he gave up when the pointy elbow of his came to view. He turned away as his father carefully looked over his stitches. He found them all good and the skin seemed to be healing quiet well.

Isshin could not understand what was wrong. What he had seen when he had operated didn't justify why Ichigo couldn't move, the wound hadn't seemed be one that would cripple the arm. Make it weaker and harder to use yes, but not completely unresponsive. It had to be the poison; it must have paralyzed it in someway, his former assumption growing stronger as he had no other thing to go on.

"I'm sure it's only temporary." Isshin offered, trying to lighten his son's mood and his own. _Temporary_, his brain echoed for him, clinging to the word like a mantra.

Ichigo's arm was put in a sling once bandaged with new band-aids, as the ability to move even his fingers didn't want to return. The feeling in his leg however did return as the day drew to an end, the pain intense and burning. It was hard to ignore, as he had little to distract himself with. The television hadn't done much for entertainment.

As night came he had been given light sleeping pills and more pain suppressants. It had lulled his senses to sleep, forcing it upon his troubled mind. But still he did not feel rested as he woke up the next day with a flaring migraine, making spots dance in front of his eyes and the urge to vomit strong.

It hurt a lot today, his leg. Ichigo tried to lie as still as he could, even if he felt like a stiff log rumbling around in a wild sea of nausea. He couldn't lie still for long, having to change position much too often to lessen the hurt in his body. Even with the max amount of the strongest aspirins it didn't stop his thigh from searing ache through his horribly scrawny body. All the pills seemed to do was to make him sleepy and numb to everything. Groggy and grumpy.

Suddenly his father was in the room again. Ichigo wondered if the old man was ever going to get a life and leave him alone. Well enough he wasn't screaming and shouting like the crazy man he often seemed to be. He only smiled warmly at his son.

"Will you join us for dinner?"

At first Ichigo been a bit surprised but then said a firm no, but as he noticed his sister's frames standing in the doorway, he couldn't help but to change his answer. Isshin had helped him put on a pair of soft pants and a new, more decent shirt. Ichigo hadn't like it when his father had had to slip his left arm through the hole of the shirt with some trouble without him even feeling it; it was as if his arm wasn't there. Gone. It was put back in the sling afterward and Ichigo was carried down stairs in Isshin's strong arms, no matter how much Ichigo thrashed and said he could walk on his own.

The dinner was quiet. Ichigo didn't say anything, only poking boringly at his food as he had no apatite. He did however not leave his concentration on it as he knew his sisters were staring at him, waiting for an opportunity to ask questions. But he wouldn't let them get any.

"Ichigo…" His father again. Frowning Ichigo looked up, meeting his gaze. "You have to eat something. I know the drip might make you feel a bit queasy," Isshin leaned forward, to see Ichigo's plate better from behind a pot. "At least eat the salad. You don't have to eat the rest."

Sighing Ichigo jabbed his fork into the vegetables and ate without a word. But his father was right, not eating, no matter how pointless it felt when there was no rush of ecstasy to stop the tearing feeling in his ribcage, wasn't a good idea. He was looking like he had severe anorexia already, his legs and arm beyond tin, almost only bone showing. He knew his cheeks were sucked inwards, the eye sockets in his skull quiet visible and his stomach caving.

When the plate was removed from his view and he looked up to see Yuzu looking worriedly at him, yet smiling softly. Slowly he let the corner of his lip twitch upward even so briefly. Instantly he was given an even larger smile in response before the girl left to clean the dishes, seeming a lot happier at the simple gesture.

Getting off the chair with trouble, Ichigo tried to help with cleaning of the rest of the table but noticed he couldn't do much, only one arm, metal pole of the IV stand attached to it and unable to walk properly was restricting him a great deal.

Instead he headed to the bathroom with a sigh on the lower floor to brush his teeth. Ichigo hitched toward the small chambers, using the steel pole that the intravenous drip hung on as support. Even so his limp was so pronounced the he still rocked from side to side at the hips with each step. He kept going despite his fathers offer to help him, which he refused to take.

It proved to be much harder than he thought it would be to brush his teeth. It really pained him when he realised just how hard even the simplest of things now were. He could hardly get the toothpaste on to the brush, since it kept moving around when he pushed against it in the cup it was standing in.

After a lot of silent cursing, he had ended up smearing tooth paste all over the mirror. Angrily he grabbed the brush hastily and put the back side of it in his mouth, holding it his with his teeth to get the white paste over it. He sighed and hastily did what he had come to do.

Once done, he had to go through the humiliating procedure of his father carrying him upstairs and hopped over to his bed to lie down. He was pathetic. So pathetic that just thinking about it was down right embarrassing. He couldn't even walk up the stairs or change his clothes properly on his own anymore. It made him want to kill something.

Ichigo shot up in a sitting position in his bed, the thought about his current state made him furious, anger he couldn't suppress rising. Quickly he got off the bed, walked around it, heaving his leg along with him, forcing his leg to work. He cursed loudly, his voice full of frustration. His leg throbbed viscously with pain as if a dog had sunken its fangs into in when he tried to stand on it. It triggered fresh angry flares and he kicked, or more or less swung his leg into the nearest furniture, a cabinet.

"Goddamn leg!"

Pain shot up into his thigh, so intense that it made him fall to the floor and scream in agony. He grabbed at the limb and swore through gritted teeth, especially when he heard Karin rush into the room and loudly wonder if he was alright as she kneeled beside him, having heard the loud crash from his fall. Ichigo ignored her and cursed.

It hurt, hurt, _hurt._

Karin placed her hand on his left shoulder, however he didn't notice since it was the bandaged one. But when she grabbed at his side to help him stand up again, he noticed it and quickly shoved her away.

"Don't fucking touch us!" He spit at her. Instantly she pulled back; she knew better than to not do what Ichigo said when his voice held nothing but rage. She hurried out the room after giving him a hurt look, obviously shocked and startled by the anger her brother held.

Ichigo sighed. He attempted to stand shakily to his feet, but his legs collapsed out from under him and he hit the ground with a dull thud again. Letting out a low moan, Ichigo dragged himself to the side of his bed and lay there, staring with milky eyes at the ceiling above him. As he lowered his gaze, they fell upon an object he knew he would have nightmares about. Eventually he dragged himself over the cold floor toward the wheelchair. His father had placed it in his room after telling him it was best for him to use one until his leg got better, much to Ichigo's added feelings of defeat and frustration.

Struggling, the gaunt teen managed to climb into the chair and quietly he tried to roll over to his bed. He did however realise he couldn't really push himself forward with it, as his left arm lay motionless in his lap. All he succeeded with was to rotate on the spot, pushing one wheel around with his right hand.

Aggravated, Ichigo managed to heave himself up on one shaky leg and jumped over the small distance and onto the bed. He leaned forward and pushed the wheelchair over, hating the infernal thing. As soon as he had done it he regretted it, as he heard his father rush up the stairs after a few seconds, obviously thinking Ichigo had fallen over when sitting in it.

The door was opened hurriedly and Isshin stormed inside, looking worried. But he stopped in his tracks when he saw the wheelchair that lay defeated on its side and then to Ichigo. The boy looked upset, the skinny form of his son looking worse than ever with the arm lying at his side in an odd angle, the bad leg bent to the side and his face wracked with unnatural sleep.

Isshin fidgeted with his hands, unsure of how to cheer his son up. It pained him to no end to see him the way he was now. He didn't know what to do… how to make him happy? Suddenly an idea he had had before truck his mind again, how could he have forgotten it?

"Wait here! Daddy has something for you!" He said with a bight smile, clapping his hands together in enthusiasm.

Ichigo said nothing, not that he could go anywhere anyways. He could hardly go to the toilet by himself without screaming, he couldn't even go down the fucking stairs at all. He didn't care what his father would give him, it wouldn't change anything. He was sure nothing in the world could rise his low spirits. Slowly he managed to curl into the bed again, carefully lifting his leg with his arm to make it hurt less as he lay down and correct his bandaged arm to lie over his chest.

Isshin was suddenly in the room again, Ichigo turning his head solemnly to face him.

"What now?" he asked; his voice shrinking even further into itself. Honestly, he didn't care what his father came with.

His father smiled carefully at Ichigo and held out a long paper box with a hastily tied bowknot string over it. Ichigo eyed it suspiciously and hoisted himself up to sit in the bed. Isshin placed the gift on Ichigo's lap, nudging it closer when Ichigo did nothing to touch it.

"Oh, it's nothing to be afraid of!" Isshin said happily, chuckling. "Open it."

Ichigo eyed his father before reaching for it and pulling it closer to himself. He frowned a bit deeper when he had to move his left arm away with his well hand, as it had slid down to lay over his stomach. Once he had the gift close enough he tugged at the bowknot until it came loose. Carefully he opened it, hearing the tissue paper rustle inside.

What he found inside was nothing else but a cane. A cane.

First Ichigo only stared, but after a few seconds a hesitant hand grabbed the smooth dark wood and brought the walking stick out of the box. Isshin watched his son's emotionless face, hoping for it to turn perhaps a little softer; as he knew a smile was too much to wish for. But instead it twisted into anger, Ichigo's eye narrowing at the item before he forcefully threw it away. Isshin yelped, not expecting it at all.

"Didn't we tell you we aren't going to be a cripple!" Ichigo roared and grabbed the boxes, scattering the tissue paper across the floor and threw them at his father, who easily blocked them as they came flying through the air.

Isshin said nothing. He thought his son would be happy over the gift, but he was only earned with anger. It seemed to be only thing his son rewarded him with no matter how many times he helped him. Where did all the spite come from?

He sighed, not bothering to fight Ichigo back as he watched his son thrash angrily in the bed, now throwing the bight paper he could still reach at Isshin, his face remaining angry. But Isshin knew there was a deep bottled up sadness underneath all the rage, which Ichigo had covered up with so much anger he couldn't even see it anymore.

Isshin knew very well his son always did that, he had been covering it ever since his mother died, so he let his son fume with anger. Slowly he stood, his face turning sad and he carefully placed the cane besides his son's bed, but it was pushed away and clattered loudly to the floor. Isshin sighed in annoyance this time, why could his son not see that he needed it? Isshin left, sad that his son got so angry at the gift he had been so happy to give.

Ichigo bit his jaw together, doing his best to clamp down his anger. He wasn't going to be a cripple! He wasn't! Anger flared inside him and he pulled at the covers that lay over him and a frustrated growl escaped him.

'_Hey King, it's not so bad!'_ Shirosaki suddenly said inside the boy's head.

"Hollow!" Ichigo burst out, not expecting the hollow to say anything. He had been so quiet lately, most probably hiding away in some corner of the inner city, trying to avoid the rain Ichigo knew must be pouring down.

'How can you say it's not so bad! Just fuckin' look at me!' Ichigo wrenched the covers away, exposing the skeleton underneath, bruised skin, scars and band-aid. More fury filled him at the hollow's words. How could he even think it! 'Not so bad!'

In the unthinking moment and with a tired groan of the hollow Ichigo grabbed at the hard support that was around his left thigh. The Velcro straps were pulled away, the sound it made harsh to the boys ears. He pulled at the band-aid that was the only thing that covered the long, thin leg now. He didn't care that it hurt to do it, that the hard support had helped to suppress the pain.

Ichigo gasped as the bandage was gone, the pale skin underneath getting redder the more he removed. The rush of anger to show the hollow how damn bad it was, was replaced with fear and worry for himself. He was faced with a large, massive scar; the wound lined up with staples hocking it together.

"Oh God…" he whispered, his eyes wide as he trailed a shaky finger over the scar that went from his hip down to the kneecap. Slowly he pushed his fingers harder against it, gritting his teeth as pain seared. To his horror the skin sank in, as what was supped to be under apparently wasn't. It seemed soft and lax. Was the muscle dead?

'_Um, __I change m' mind. __it's pretty fuckin' bad…'_ The hollow mumbled lowly, his words uncertain. 'How… how could it become like that?' The bright voice asked; the same worry and fear Ichigo felt clear in the others voice.

'Fucking shinigami stabbed the damn leg!' Ichigo growled, his hand fisting at his side now.

'_Tsh! You know what I meant…'_

Ichigo sighed, all they did was to fight it seem. But he only had himself to blame for that. He stayed quiet, the hollow scoffing and shrugging it off, leaving the teen again, returning to rot away alone in the rain inside the boy's soul.

The orange haired teen put the support back around his leg the best he could, it wasn't as tight now but it had to do. He only had one arm to do it with after all.

He felt guilty at what he had done to his father. He hadn't realised how much he needed the cane. Cane or wheelchair. He'd choose the cane in a heartbeat. Ichigo frowned. Oh, the irony.

Bony fingers curled around the handle and with a growl Ichigo rose from the bed and leaned all his weight on his arm. Thankfully it wasn't much. Shakily he took a step, the weight quickly back on the stick before he fell. Okay, this needed some practice.

He stepped around in the room, slowly and carefully. To his surprise he could limp around quiet well without too much pain, even if it was still there.

'_See – not so bad!'_ The hollow's low, yet smug voice was faintly heard, yet it wasn't in the middle of his brain as the voice was distant.

'Oh, shut up!' Ichigo mumbled angrily, trying to ignore the smug grin he knew his hollow had over his slim face. But as he was about to retort to the hollow more than he already had, he heard a low knock on the door as slowly it was opened.

Ichigo stepped up to the small hallway between the door and the toilet. Before his parent could say anything Ichigo spoke.

"We're sorry dad… We have no excuse for becoming so angry…" There was a sigh. "Thanks for the cane… really needed it."

At first his father looked at him in disbelief, he had never expected to hear anything close it. Sure, he wished his son to be less angry, but not to say words of thank you. Ichigo saw him look at him in disbelieve.

"What!" he hissed, annoyed as he glared at his father once more.

"Ah, nothing, I just didn't expect-" He was cut off by Ichigo who had started yelling at him again.

"For once we try to act nicely; and this is how you respond?" Ichigo hissed, his emotional turmoil getting the better of him. "Forget it old man!" He spit and turned around, heading for his bed, but he was stopped when muscular arms wrapped around his waist.

Isshin lifted his son up, rotating on the spot with him, as if dancing. He beamed, a genuine smile spreading over his lips and he laughed. "Daddy was just very surprised you liked the cane!"

"Ah, let go!" Ichigo yelled, pain moving through him at the harsh movements and he dropped his new walking stick. Isshin immediately let go, his laugh dying, realizing his mistake and put he boy down, who fell as he couldn't get his footing in order to stand firmly without the dark brown cane.

"Ichigo! I'm sorry!" He sputtered, quickly lifting up his son again bridal style and laying him down on the bed. "Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?" He asked, obviously worried. Ichigo clutched his leg and clamped his eyes shut. It hurt bad enough to make him hiss through clenched teeth.

"Yeah we're alright, its fine," Ichigo bit together, trying to keep his expressionless face intact as he turned away. He wasn't one to show pain.

Ichigo didn't know how many times his father said he was sorry and tucked him into bed after adjusting the leg support. Ichigo only waved the words away saying it wasn't necessary until he shouted at him to shut up and leave, unable to keep the mental walls up for much longer.

With a sigh and a grimace Ichigo fell back into the covers, finally alone. His entire body felt like it had been beaten with a sledgehammer several times, especially his head. His face crumbled, twisting and contorting in pain. Ichigo wanted nothing more than to crawl into a ball with the covers over his head and cry, just let the tears pour forth until all the moisture that was left in his body was gone, until he dried up and crumbled into dust and ceased to exist. Nothing left.

Ichigo swallowed hard. Even if he wanted to cry, tears would not come, no matter how much his lower lip pushed up and his chest rattled from shaky breaths. He felt like he was dying, rotting as fluids from the IV next to him was the only thing that kept him on the side of the living. But he was slowly dying and he knew it. It was just a matter of time before his hole would start screaming again.

Pressing urges to stop the agony and instincts would soon come, no matter what he did. He hadn't eaten the grey nutrients for how long? It suddenly hit him, he hadn't eaten it for days! His tried eyes darted back and forth in their sockets. Where was it? He should have become an empty shell by now shouldn't he? The more he thought about it, the more he felt the monster stir and he barred his teeth at nothing. Ichigo sat up, the thought and unconscious action very troubling.

Where was it? He had to find it. Now. A growl escaped him, a low hiss. Fuck.

The hole in his chest stabbed him in the back with ache and agony and Ichigo's face darkened. The hunger to stop the horrible and cold feeling crawled over him, so close to the edge now that Ichigo could not bear it any longer and a strangled scream escaped him. He had to find the nutrients before it was too late.

Quickly and unthinkingly he moved out of bed, toppling over instantly and hitting the floor flat out, his skull slamming into the floor-boards and the IV needle was painfully wrenched out of his arm. An angry and pained wail escaped.

Soon, to his dismay, the anger exploded into fury and a huger for blood so intense swept over him that he had clench his teeth and struggle to keep from letting loose his roar of primal rage. He twisted on the cold ground, his weak muscles flexing madly as he tried to get up from the floor without much success. His mind was slipping and he was loosing focus. With every movement a low murmur of beast-like sounds was heard from him.

It troubled Isshin greatly as he had stopped in the small hallway of Ichigo's room. He had come to help again after hearing the sound of his son falling. He had stayed on the second floor, not stupid enough to go too far away from his son. He had never housed a hollow before, even if the one that was his son ate things to suppress the urges to kill. So therefore he still kept his guard high. He even had the badge his son had required years ago in his jean's pocket, just to be on the safe side if things got too much out of hand.

Feeling like he was stabbed in the heart several times when he saw Ichigo, Isshin tried to stop himself from calling out in worry. Ichigo was laying face down on the floor, his legs kicking behind him and arm twitching and moving over the wooden boards stiffly, like he was unable to move properly.

Carefully Isshin approached the gurgling boy, whose head instantly snapped up, teeth barred like fangs, lips pulled back and eyes wide. He looked mad and crazy and Isshin had to struggle to keep calm. He didn't know what to do, but shamefully glad that Ichigo didn't seem to manage to get up from the floor.

"M-Mmm-make it... s-stooop!" Ichigo suddenly stuttered out, the twitching and uncontrolled movements Isshin realised were from Ichigo trying to stop himself from attacking rampant.

But Ichigo didn't stay on the ground for much longer, his instincts going haywire with a shinigami so close and his eating hole biting so hard at his body and soul. It was like sirens blared in his skull; attack, attack, _attack _and he found himself giving in to it willingly, embracing it with his entire being.

Without thinking anymore, Ichigo darted up from the floor. His hand clawed at his father as his body slammed into Isshin, his mouth open and ready to consume. A shout left Isshin as he was pushed into the wardrobe door, but acting quickly he grabbed his son's thrashing arm by the wrist, holding it in the air away from himself. Ichigo struggled, trying to pull himself free. A skinny, barefooted leg darted out, in a pathetic try to kick free from the hand that gripped him. He couldn't even register who it was anymore.

But the kick had been weak and hadn't hurt when it had hit Isshin, whom started to push Ichigo back, who only snarled at him. Isshin kept holding his sons arm in a way and pulling it so Ichigo had to move backwards or his arm would dislocate. Isshin hoped Ichigo wasn't too mad yet to let it do that in order to draw his blood.

It worked, Ichigo slowly moving backwards even when he was attacking, but it was hard for him to do anything hostile as he still couldn't walk properly, even if pain was a small part of attention now. The pain couldn't push through the thick layer of desires that had wrapped around his brain like a snake around its prey.

Isshin wondered how killing someone could becomes such a desperate need as he struggled with his son, trying his best to move Ichigo towards the bed where he hoped he could secure him somehow. Isshin wondered what could change his once caring and kind son into a wild beast so easily in the blink of an eye. Desperately wondered how raging hunger could change a person so fast and so sudden. Or was Ichigo simply too easily influenced by its strong grip…?

He didn't know, and didn't really have time to think about it as he regretfully had to punch Ichigo in the face to keep him at bay. He knew talking to Ichigo now was futile and hoped overpowering him would perhaps make him subside a little. As when a lower ranked lion obeyed the roar from the alpha male in a pride.

With a hard shove, to get Ichigo close enough to the bed, he pushed Ichigo just after letting go of his arm. He knew that the desire to be careful with Ichigo due to his injuries was something he had to overlook and with yet another hard push he forced Ichigo's writhing body to lie down. But Ichigo wasn't down for long, only a few seconds passed before he tried to claw Isshin eyes out.

His father recoiled, just narrowly managing to avoid the attack. For a split second he wondered how his son could move so fast in the corporeal body. At least he was still as weak in it as a human body naturally was. Again he pushed Ichigo back, but this time he shoved Ichigo down with a firm grip on the both shoulders and didn't let go. Ichigo screamed wildly in response, his face still deranged and eyes mad, clouded over as Isshin stared into them.

"Ichigo! Calm down!" He shouted over Ichigo's yell.

"What's going on!" A bright voice suddenly came over the screams of both males.

The two instantly froze, Isshin turning his shoulders and head to look around to see Karin standing in the narrow hallway. Her eyes were wide and worried at the sight before her, something she hadn't expected the least when walking home from school.

However Isshin couldn't look for long as Ichigo suddenly tried to get away with new vigour. He slunk out of Isshin's grip and instantly flung himself at his sister. But Isshin was fast and got a grip on Ichigo's right shoulder, pulling back and slamming Ichigo into the floor, Ichigo's back hitting the ground with a thud and a pained yelp.

"Get out Karin!" Isshin instantly barked as Ichigo lay dazed, his order firm and Karin did not hesitate on leaving when she heard Ichigo scream so very unnaturally again after she had moved out of his sight. She darted into her room, quickly closing the door behind her afraid that the thing that was her brother might come after her again and her father unable to stop him.

Isshin wrestled with his son, whom didn't seem to want to stop attacking no matter what. Isshin was getting desperate as he pinned Ichigo the floor again. He didn't know how to stop his son, how to calm him down. He tried with speaking his name, but it had no effect, no matter what he said seemed to be heard.

He was getting tried; it was so hard to fight against his own, troubled and injured son. He loved his son, thus it was so hard to hit him. His heartstrings were about to burst as he clenched harder on the left shoulder and arm, holding Ichigo firmly against the floor as he sat down on him, forcing the boy into the floor.

Ichigo screamed again, the alarm in his brain ringing higher and higher the more time passed, the more viscously the monster fought, there was no way he was going to let his soul be ripped into oblivion and become a shell of nothing. Every cell in his body was against it. And on top off him the solution beamed, the glorious light that flicked on and off as the shinigami blinked. With a twitching motion Ichigo tried to shove his face up to sink his teeth into the soft eyeballs, but he was held down. He screamed again. He needed that light as his. Now.

Being taken aback by a sudden blast off dark spirit energy and Isshin's grip loosened over the shoulders, Ichigo's upper body flung up, his free hand slinking behind his dad's neck and his teeth sank into the soft flesh of the neck. But his human teeth weren't sharp, and no blood was drawn before he had been pushed back against the floor, once more struggling against the hard grip of his father.

The attack had hurt Isshin, but nothing serious. However he knew he had to do something to stop his demented son from his madness. With what! What stopped the ranging monster? Killing it did, but he was never going to do that. What… what! His thoughts were jumbled as he struggled with his son. But suddenly it hit him.

That food! That Ichigo had hidden in his room and Yuzu had found the steel container when cleaning it. Isshin had placed in the refrigerator, figuring it was food of some sort so keeping it cold was something to do to stop it getting old.

"Karin!" He shouted, hoping his daughter would hear him.

At first he got no response, but after shouting a second time Karin came running but still looking afraid, as she saw the two were still fighting and Ichigo still seemed to act like he was a monster with no control.

"What?" She asked hurriedly as she saw Ichigo starting to try and get loose with a bit more fire.

"Get-" He was cut short from having to push down harder again and sit still as Ichigo started to kick with his leg furiously. "Get a tube, a syringe and the steel box that's in the refrigerator!"

"Y-yes!" Karin stuttered, not asking twice and immediately headed downstairs for the kitchen and hospital part for the items.

Quickly she returned again, handing Isshin the tube, where she had already inserted the filled syringe and placed the open steel container on the floor. Isshin grabbed the tube with one hand, which immediately made Ichigo trying to rise up and attack again. Quickly he let go of the item and forced his son down again.

"Can you hold his arm down?" He asked, his voice stressed. Karin didn't say anything, but moved to put both her hands on his arm, leaning all her weight on her own arms to hold her brother's firm.

Isshin grabbed for the tube again, grabbed at Ichigo's head, pushing it down at the forehead before he looked around unsure about how to get the transparent tube down his son's mouth. But Karin seemed to notice and let go of one hand and placed it over the forehead instead, seeming to be strong enough to still hold Ichigo down, even when his arm and head bumped up and down a little, his sister unable to keep the limbs completely flat against the floor.

Working fast, Isshin quickly passed a feeding tube through the nose, not wanting to guide it through the mouth, knowing then he would be bitten. Ichigo tried to move away at the intrusion in his nose, but seemed not to notice it too much; the only thing that made it show that he did was the less frequent mad screaming. His eyes however were still just as cloudy and deranged.

Carefully yet quickly his father worked, inserting the tube longer and longer, he could even see it in the back of his son's throat when he roared. It helped however; as he could easily see that he had gotten it down the right way. Once hoping it was down far enough, he quickly grabbed Ichigo's limb and forehead again, telling Karin to grab the syringe.

The grey substance seeped through and moved sluggishly down the tube and to both Karin's and Isshin's dismay the syringe had to be refilled from the steel tray several times to get his son back to normal. Eventually after four slow and hard refills of the plastic syringe, Ichigo seemed to start reacting.

Slowly his struggling stopped and instead short shouts that Isshin realised after four of them were laughs. Why in the world was a he laughing?

However after four or five more filled syringe's content was pushed into his stomach to mingle with his gastric acid, Ichigo suddenly, to both shock, seemed to start crying. His nose run, his eyes watered slightly and his face contorted and a wail instead of a scream pushed past trembling lips.

"Dad, why is he crying!" Karin asked desperately, suddenly wanting to stop pushing the grey goo down the transparent tube, thinking she was torturing her brother.

"I-I don't know," Isshin stuttered, startled all the same by the massive change in manners. Letting go of Ichigo, who had stopped struggling, he rose from the ground to get off the boy.

"Hey… Ichigo," Isshin tried, his as son's eyes were not clouded over now and the disturbed expression was after all gone. It was worth a try.

He wasn't earned with any hint of being a heard for some time, but after saying his sons name again and shaking his shoulder lightly, he watched Ichigo's eyes blink the tears away and his face seem to transform into a sharp expression of indifferent nothing as Ichigo's own personality seemed to kick back into gear. His gaze passed over the two family-members and with a groan he struggled to sit up. Revealed sighs released the breath both Isshin and Karin hadn't known they had been holding.

Ichigo's breath was slow, yet heavy. His mind was fuzzy and his heart hammered wildly in his ribcage from emotional strain. He swallowed, finding his mouth as dry as a desert and he turned to face his father and sister. He didn't know what to say, he knew what he had been doing, but not strong enough to not give in. He could still feel the monster scream and tear at its chains to free itself and resume its hunt to regain life and ecstasy. Ichigo did his best to ignore it.

"Sorry…" He squeaked. "We…"

"It's alright, Ichigo," Isshin said, Karin nodding in agreement as she smiled slightly.

"No!" Ichigo's voice was harder now. "It's not alright…" He sat up a little better, turning his body to face the two better. He could see that Isshin didn't really know what to say either.

"Yes it is. We managed to stop it together," Karin filled in for him. "It's over, no need to worry anymore."

"But it will come back Karin, it's always there… lurking under our skin," Ichigo looked away.

"Then we will stop it again," Karin insisted, not hundred percent sure what her brother was talking about, but she had a pretty good guess. "And if it still comes back, we will stop it then too."

A silence formed over the tree as Ichigo didn't respond, not looking at the two. The only sound that came between them was the short grunt and gasp from Ichigo as the migraine that always joined the eating of his food came over him. But he had become accustomed to the dark pain that rolled frequently across his head from its effects. But he could deal with it because the drug kept him lucid, kept the terrible darkness at bay, at least for the moment.

Eventually Isshin rose from the floor, helping Ichigo back into his bed and replacing the IV carefully and stayed with his son for a while. He sat with his back turned to Ichigo, reading a random book he had gotten from the bookcase after Ichigo had said he could stay, as long as he didn't see his eyes, claiming it would make it harder for him to calm down. Shrugging, Isshin accepted that, as long as he could be in the same room as his son he was glad.

The days bled together, everyone following the same pattern to Ichigo, the same pain and the same eating emptiness always there and seemed to be a little more pressing after his fresh meeting with its beast. He felt hollow inside; gray, cold and empty.

His father came every morning and evening to give him medicine and lunch and dinner in between, coming to give him the grey drug to suppress the unyielding urges that never stopped biting at his soul. Ichigo wondered when he would run out and what he would do when it did. He couldn't defeat the hunger he knew that. Attack his father again, until he got what he wanted, or they locked him up in a room? Until he was an unresponsive shell of whom he once was… He didn't want that.

So he stayed still, in a frail attempt of reserving power. The ever eating agony radiated from within the flesh, eating him alive faster for each passing night. He felt like he was rotting away in his bed, slowly dissolving into shapeless dust. But that was he had wanted wasn't it? Disappear. Maybe he didn't, yet he knew he did in many ways… The boy sighed as he didn't know what he wanted anymore.

The day slowly passed, the world disappearing into a blur of a half sleeping state and Wednesday turned into Thursday.

But as the boy woke up, his father had insisted on Ichigo getting dressed today and carried him down stairs to the sofa. At first Isshin had darted back and forth giving him his medicine and something to eat. The boy had reluctantly consumed it all.

It had turned his mood a little brighter as he leaned back, the single piece of toast and orange juice making him feel full and he fought the urge to go and throw it up in the toilet as he still wasn't used to have something in his stomach. He still couldn't help but think the food was repulsive, as it had no effect on him. It was nothing compared to the life of a soul. No matter how shameful it was to admit.

But as the clock ticked past lunch, Ichigo sank into the couch. Slowly his eyes clouded over as he dwelled in the emptiness in his heart and he cradled his arm that remained numb and limp. But it wasn't long until his father was in front of him, waving a hand in his face and grabbing his shoulder to get his attention as he smiled softly. Ichigo squirmed.

"Let go." He slurred out automatically, turning away. He was being depressed; couldn't his father see that?

"You shouldn't sit inside all day Ichigo," his father sat down next to him. "You'll been in your room for two weeks now not doing anything but watching television and sleeping. You'll get depressed."

God, couldn't he see he was that already? Ichigo frowned. "What would you have us do? Sit outside on a bench like a bum?" He asked, his voice turning a little sour. "There's nothing else we can do."

"You can always go back to school!" Isshin beamed at his son. Ichigo gave him an irritated look.

"We can't even walk, how you can expect us to get into the classroom when we can't even get up these stairs!" Ichigo asked exasperatedly and motioned toward said stairs in the house.

"Sure you can walk with the cane! And daddy has already gotten Ichigo keys for the elevator!" Isshin bellowed, wrenching the keys from his pocket and holding them up into to air like it was some sort of gleaming prize. Ichigo's eyes twitched and he tried not to scream in annoyance.

But before he knew it the keys were shoved down his pocket and his father lifted him into his arms and practically ran outside with him screaming in protest. Ignoring his son's threats to kill him Isshin opened the door to the car and put Ichigo in the front seat.

"What are you doing!" He asked again, once his father had tucked him inside. "We don't even have shoes on! And our stuff!" Ichigo's eyes widened. "We need something if we're gonna be there!" The teen tried his best to get out, but pain shot through his leg and he grunted as he slumped back into the seat.

"Don't worry son! Daddy will take care of everything!" The old man shouted with a bit too much enthusiasm for his son's liking and stormed off to fetch the belongings. It wasn't long until Isshin was back with Ichigo's messenger bag, shoes and jacket in hand. The boy struggled as his father smiled warmly at him and helped him to put on his shoes.

The jacket was easier to get on despite the sling and the belt put on. His father was soon in the drivers seat again, but before they managed to drive anywhere though, Ichigo quickly looked into his bag to see if what he need was in there. He saw the metal container glimmer inside, a spoon attached to it in a hurry with some tape. Ichigo looked up at his father, his eyes meeting with Isshin's reassuring gaze.

"Too school it is!" Isshin suddenly bellowed and with the tires screeching he hit the gas.

**End of Chapter**


	26. Truant

**Chapter 26: Truant**

Ichigo stepped out of the car, having a little trouble but making it nonetheless. He gave his father a worried look, wanting to get back inside the vehicle as soon as he was out. This was a bad idea. He didn't feel the least human and sure as hell didn't seem to be able to pass as one. He couldn't put up an act last time, so why now, when things were even worse?

But as he was just about to sit down inside the car again Isshin practically threw himself at the door and slammed it shut, almost pinching his son's leg. Ichigo yelped but managed to get out of the way.

"Hey!" He growled, knocking at the window and glaring harder.

"Have a good day son! I'll pick you up at four!" Isshin bellowed through the window and smiled reassuringly before he hit the gas and roared off into the distance, leaving Ichigo with nothing else but to head inside the school grounds. He did, once again try to avoid the humans walking around him but it was hard as their gazes were upon him, his visible defeat making people stare.

Moving on, Ichigo manage to limp all the way inside the building to the stairs. Frowning he stepped aside, letting the other school-kids pass. He was gradually disturbed by them, the monotone murmur from fanatic chattering unsettling and the light from the life they all emitted so carelessly was sharp on his sensitive eyes. And pressing on the monster that was him.

Quickly he looked away, knowing his grey frame had to look pathetic as he tried to hide himself and his cane from view. The cane was clutched harder in his firm grip. He felt vulnerable. Much too vulnerable. An unexpected shiver of fragility went down his spine and Ichigo turned sharply on the spot, moving right to the elevators that were placed next to the staircases. He wasn't even going to attempt to climb the stairs.

Fumbling to not drop his cane, Ichigo managed to pull out the key from his pocket. Once inside Ichigo jabbed at the third-floor button with his thumb. With a harsh sound of clunking metal the elevator started its short ascension.

Turning his head slightly, Ichigo caught his reflection in the mirror that hung on the elevator's left wall and he froze, once more startled over his appearance. He did not like the face he saw.

He looked so old, but not in a good way. He seemed weary and tired; his hair was more disarranged than usually, even if it laid limp over his skull, its lustre long since dead. Faint scars and discoloured skin told of harsh cuts and treatment. His cheeks were still sunken into his skull, just like his eyes. His brown eyes were wide, whites showing all the way around. He looked demented.

Frowning a little harder Ichigo took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he leaned against the glass. He swallowed thick phlegm down and tried to regain enforced composure.

Slowly it worked, but the sharp sound of the doors forcing themselves open as the elevator had reached it destination disturbed his concentration. However, Ichigo did not step outside at once. He was still glaring at himself in the mirror. He looked like a wreck that had been rotting on the shores of Hell for months.

The collar of his clothes was pulled up sharply to hide a gruesome scar running along his throat. After leaning the cane against a corner Ichigo dug into his messenger bag to snatch out his black aviators. He put his sunglasses back on the bridge of his nose where they did their job of hiding a large part of his face.

Once the boy finally dared to step out, he limped to the right and headed straight for about twenty steps. Reluctantly Ichigo stepped inside the classroom. It wasn't long until the question he feared was aimed at him.

"Ichigo?" Tatsuki breathed as soon as she saw him, her voice a whisper as she pulled away from her friends when seeing the battered, yet familiar frame of someone she hadn't laid eyes upon in a long time. "What happened to you?" She demanded after giving Ichigo better look.

"W- I…" Ichigo's voice trailed off. He hadn't even thought about thinking of a good lie to tell. "It's none of your business!" He spat instead and headed for his seat, shoving past the girl. She followed him. "Can you go away," It wasn't a question.

"No! Not until you tell me what's going on with you!" The dark haired girl suddenly shouted, her hands slamming down onto Ichigo's small desk. "You're gone for months, then you come back like nothing happened without a single word! You run away during break and Orihime comes down crying after saying she's going to find out what's wrong!"

A finger was pointed at him accusingly, but he refused to meet Tatsuki's eyes.

"Then you stumble across us after school, crying."

There was a short but immensely stiff silence, the two of them glaring daggers at each other.

"Then you're gone again!" Tatsuki continued. "Without anyone knowing where you went! Now you're back and look at you! What the hell happened!" Her voice was drenched in worry and anger of the fact that she didn't know what was wrong with her friend.

"We told you to go away," Ichigo intended to keep on hiding his secrets, no matter how much she tried to pry it out of him.

"I'm worried Ichigo!" Her voice was a loud yell. "How can you be so cold!"

"Because what happened to us is none of your damn business!" He was shouting now too, standing up to tower above her, his eyebrows knitted together firmly, his mouthing edging to a snarl. He had shouted loud enough for the classroom to fall silent.

Tatsuki went quiet as well, her lips forming a thin line in her face as she did her best to stop herself from screaming. Thought she wasn't sure if she could find her voice any more. As Ichigo leaned slightly forward, she saw his body and the too pale skin beneath the hanging clothes. She saw the ribs jutting out at odd angels and his stomach caving inwards.

She knew that long sleeved t-shirt. Hell, she was the one that had given it to him on his birthday. She remembered that he had complained it was a bit too tight even for him. Now it was anything but.

"What happened to you…?" Tatsuki breathed carefully again, her voice barely audible.

She saw his once-tight jeans barely cling to his protruding hips and hang dangerously low along his waistline, despite the tightened belt that did its best to secure them. Before she could see anything more the teen hastily sat down without a word, knowing full well he was being studied. Her eyes were filled with pity as Ichigo's angry ones met with hers and he looked away.

"Leave us alone… Please."

He looked so fragile that Tatsuki couldn't help but to think he might break if she so much as touched him. Her hand moved over her mouth and she looked away as well.

She left his side, her face stiff and filled with even more worry than before. Had Ichigo, her best friend that she had known for so long, but yet felt like she didn't know at all any more, become ill? With what, anorexia?

That felt too odd to think as she watched the huddled form of Ichigo from behind as she sat down at her own her desk, the teacher arriving in the room. He was certainly thin enough to have it. She wondered how he could even walk; he looked like a skeleton, even with the clothes hiding his body. Her jaw clenched.

How could she never have suspected it? Seen any hints? Maybe that was why he had been gone for so long, because his father had noticed and taken him into care? But when she had come to the Kurosaki resident and asked what had happened to Ichigo, his father had said his son was nowhere to be found. Gone. He wouldn't say that instead of saying that Ichigo was in a clinic for treatment of anorexia.

Her hands moved over her face, her palms pressing against it and she sighed. Maybe she could follow him home after school, or at least talk to him as he did. Or limped… What had happened to his leg? Had he broken it and just gotten the plaster taken away?

The thought didn't ring too wrong; if he refused to eat, his body would become weak and most muscles would atrophy into nothing. Right? Just a small fall from perhaps the stairs could have broken his leg. But what about the arm? It hadn't moved in the sling at all, not even a twitch of his fingers. She frowned, clueless.

Ichigo himself tried to hide away in his seat. He didn't belong here any more, did he? Just the constant stares from everyone made it clear. Even here in the familiar classroom he felt like an animal in a cage. Especially with Tatsuki's eyes burning into his back. Keigo and Mizuiro's as well, for that matter. Maybe the Quincy's, too.

The teacher went on and on through out the lesson, Ichigo not really listening as he kneaded his eyes into his skull and tried to get the dark rims under them to go away and groaned. He fidgeted with the paper in front of him, tried to hold his pen still enough to write down useless words on it. It was hard to concentrate and like a knife in the dark his chest suddenly cramped and Ichigo bit back a whimper as it closed it fangs around him and started eating him away. Shit.

He hadn't eaten any nutrients before school and he bit his jaw together harder. It was just a matter of time before his hole would start screaming and he would be unable to stop the pressing urges from rising, his instincts to get the horrible empty, grey and dreadful feelings away would start to range. The paper crumbled in his clenched fist and he inhaled sharply.

Swiftly he rose from his seat, his bag still over his shoulder as if he had just arrived. He grabbed his cane, leaning on it as he turned and stalked out of the room without a word, despite the teacher asking where he was going.

He hugged the walls as he headed for the toilets, doing his best to seem as normal as he could as he passed several people in the corridor. As soon as he had entered the thankfully empty white chamber he took off his glasses and wrenched the metallic box out of his bag and removed the lid and started to eat, no matter how disgusting it was. He kept a straight face and swallowed.

Immediately he felt sick as a jolt moved through him. A stab of ecstasy and painful tremors followed. The cane clattered to the floor when he had hastily dropped it to grab the sink for support as the wished the pain away. He tried to breathe normally, afraid someone might enter when he had no control.

His mouth flew open, saliva dropping from his lips into the sink as he gasped for air. Lowering his head, Ichigo struggled to fill his mouth with cold water from the tap. The water ran down his cramping throat as he tried to was away the feeling of having a dead animal in his gut. His body hurt, every breath he took made his gaunt body shake and rattle. Slowly he breathed through his nose, doing everything he could to block out the pain.

Long, spider-like fingers twitched slightly as he reached for his messenger bag again, taking out a smaller bag out of it. He got it standing on the sinks edge and his headache started to flare, like it was burning holes in his very brain with a brand-iron. Fumbling, he managed to get a tin out of the black bag. A small pill fell out of the orange tin it was secured in, no matter how hard it was to get the lid off with only one trembling hand.

The boy didn't really pay attention to which of the pills he took, as he grabbed one from each tin. Somewhere in the back in his mind, behind his sweaty and damp forehead, he though that reading what the hell he was popping himself with would be a better idea than just randomly taking it all, despite the fact that his dad had picked them out for him.

But he ignored it and Ichigo forced the last pills down his throat. His mind played the illusion on him that the pain was already fading even if the pills could be nowhere near dissolved. But as he leaned down with a throaty groan and grabbed for his cane a familiar voice was heard from behind as someone entered. A familiar voice he sure didn't like.

"Hey, Freak!" It was followed with a short bark of a laugh. "What happened to you! Did yah break your leg n' arm while you were taking your piss bath to get your hair yellow?"

Ooshima. Again.

Ichigo didn't answer. He simply ignored the taunt while he did his best to put his small medicine bag into his messenger bag and wondered if it was the son-of-a-bitch fate that had poked its finger into his life once again to make Ooshima come into the restroom when he was there.

But whether fate was involved or not, Ichigo was slightly surprised that Ooshima even dared to face him alone after their last confrontation. Maybe it was Ichigo's massive disadvantage that made him dare. But he didn't have many seconds to wonder as an elbow in the face sent him stumbling into one of the toilet doors with a yelp. Not too unexpectedly Ooshima quickly snatched the cane out of his hand when he was stunned form the blow.

"I'm talking to you piss-hair. You got deaf, too?"

"Give it back!" Ichigo glared back at Ooshima through sweaty hair, quickly touching his nose, praying it wouldn't start bleeding like last time. He didn't want past events to repeat themselves.

"Oh, boo-hoo. Did I hurt you?" Ooshima taunted, making Ichigo growl.

"Don't make us hurt you." Ichigo warned, taking a shaky step forward and he held his shoulders back and head high. He angled his arm outwards, trying to get his body to appear less fragile.

"You? Hurt me?" An ugly smile spread over the fat lips. "What; you're gonna limp on me?" Ooshima started limping severely and clumsily with the cane, mocking Ichigo who was out of his reach. "Oh help, help! The Freak is coming after me!" A hand moved up to lay its back over his forehead and Ooshima leaned his head backward, mimicking a lady passing out. "I think I'm gonna faint."

All he was earned with another angry growl from Ichigo. "Give it back."

"No, I'm not going to give it back." Ooshima suddenly sounded serious, his smile replaced with a snarl. "I'm gonna make you pay for humiliating me. For making me crawl in the mud."

Ichigo didn't let the threat get to him, even if he perhaps he should have as he knew Ooshima's body-mass was at least twice his size and now probably strength, too. Ichigo couldn't see any advantages on his side, except for him perhaps being a quite real monster beneath the skin. But there was no way he could let it, himself, loose here. That would be Bad with a big B.

The first punch Ichigo just barely managed to dodge, darting to the left and almost hitting his head on the edge of the soap container. But he wasn't as lucky with the others. Ooshima hit him, two hard, sharp punches to the head and Ichigo crumpled to the vinyl floor as if he were a pile of laundry.

But he wasn't allowed to lie on the ground for long before Ooshima pulled him up by the collar of his school uniform. The blows to the skull had left Ichigo dazed and he couldn't struggle much.

Dully Ichigo wished his human body was as hardy and resilient as his soul-body. But it wasn't. It was just as normal, just as weak as everyone else's pathetic heap of meat and Ichigo wasn't sure if he had gotten brain concussion or not as his vision blurred.

Violently Ichigo was pushed around and he was shoved into the small chamber where the toilet was. A rough hand soon grabbed his orange hair and yanked him down hard. Ichigo bit back a scream as his face was forcefully slammed into the toilet-seat.

"How about getting some of that piss out of your hair!"

With that Ooshima kneed him in his stomach and his head was shoved past the toilet ring and into the water. Ichigo heard some sort of laugh before the toilet was flushed. Cold water rushed into his hair, ears, eyes and mouth. He couldn't breath and tried to get up but the large hand of Ooshima kept him down and he was panicking at the lack of air. The toilet was flushed over and over until the water was out.

It wasn't as bad as Ichigo thought at first. It wasn't like it was the first time it happened. He and Osshima had been through this many, many times before Ichigo became a shinigami. But that didn't make it any less pleasant. Before it had been easier to get up and hit back though, since then he had had two arms and two legs that worked fully. I wasn't until he felt a knee meet with his injured thigh and his already beaten face getting slammed against the toilet's water tank that Ichigo realized just how helpless he was.

"How's that freak!"

Ichigo groaned when he was suddenly released and slumped against the toilet-seat. His mind swayed, the headache so intense now it made everything fuzzy. He could make out grunting sounds and bodies moving. One person left, leaving one behind. Ichigo dully recognized the smell the person gave off as Keigo.

"Ahh!" Keigo exclaimed in surprise, shocked at the rough push from Ooshima. "W-what was that for!" He yelled, even if Oohima was already gone from the door that was sliding shut. Grunting irritatingly he straightened, but soon hurried forward as he heard a soft groan from one of the smaller stands inside the restroom.

"Ichigo!" He burst out as he saw an orange mop of untamed hair. "Hey Ichigo… Hey…?" Keigo asked again as the boy didn't respond. He seemed to not notice Keigo and the frown on his beaten face almost slipped, dizzy spells and pain making it hard to keep a straight face. Keigo heard him groan.

To him it looked like Ichigo was barely hanging on to consciousness and he moved closer to Ichigo, who was still gasping for air. His nose seemed broken and one of his eyes were severely swollen. He shook Ichigo's shoulder lightly.

"Ichigo…? Ichigo, you're hurt." He shook him harder. It didn't help. It only made Ichigo's head hang forwards and saliva drip from his mouth. A low groan escaped him again.

"Ichigo! Hey!" Keigo shook him once more. Ichigo's complete show of defeat troubled him. Hell, Ichigo wouldn't even go down when he got into fights with guys with baseball bats. How could a single bully suddenly dull him like a stone? Had he hurt his body so badly? What had happened?

"G' off…!" Ichigo suddenly slurred. Keigo quickly let go of the bony shoulders and moved away slightly, afraid Ichigo might hit him.

He could see Ichigo's face strain and the old familiar scowl fall back into place, his skin twitching as if it wanted contort in pain, but Ichigo didn't let it. With a moan the teen slowly rose from the floor, grunting as he sat down heavily on the toilet seat. His head spun and he still feared concussion. Keigo gave him a worried look even if Ichigo refused to meet his eyes and carefully handed him his cane.

Ichigo took it without a word and heaved himself up, walking past the other. He glared at himself in the mirror, leaning his walking stick against the sink and moving hand through his wet hair. The teen dried off his face with the paper towels and sighed, coughing a little. He put the glasses back on.

Keigo watched him, worry filling him as he saw Ichigo trying to act as if nothing had happened. But he could see Ichigo's hand shaking and his uneasy swallowing, as if trying to swallow the urge to cry away.

"Tell the instructor I'm going home, will you…?" Ichigo mumbled, leaving Keigo in his wake without even so much as a 'thank you'.

After arriving back home at the Kurosaki Clinic, Ichigo leaned over the kitchen table after sitting down, feeling like an old man. It was hard to hold the tears back even now, his lower lip shaking no matter how hard he bit on it. His face throbbed painfully and his leg was even worse. It felt swollen and it had hurt so much when he had done his best to limp back home.

He had almost called his father to help him, but then, as always, settled that he could make it just fine himself. And he had, he tried to comfort himself. Carefully, he lifted his injured limb up so it rested over another chair and heaved a sigh, moving his hand over his tender face. He was so pathetic.

As he stared into the back of his eyelids he heard the front door open and Karin step inside. He could clearly smell her, her strong sent reaching his animalistic senses before she even stepped inside. She took off her jacket and shoes and entered the kitchen where she spotted the slumped form off her brother.

She frowned, not too shocked to see him home, even if his school hours weren't over. She had even gone to his classroom first to see if he was still in school to see how he was doing. If he perhaps needed some help. To see if he was still pretending to be fine after… after what had happened before.

Immediately she walked up to his dreadful form, worry over her older sibling once again moving through her. Slowly she sat down on the seat next to him, not saying anything; knowing that asking probably wouldn't get anything out of him, anyway. He had too many secrets.

Ichigo made no movement signifying he noticed her there, but Karin wasn't surprised. She was pretty sure he wanted to be hiding away in his dark room at the moment, away from everyone, but simply couldn't walk up the stairs on his own. Just the way he was breathing told her that he was in pain.

At first Karin dared to do nothing about it, but when no change had occurred after a long fifteen minutes Karin figured Ichigo had to be crying or something like that refuse to remove the hand from his face and look at her.

She had an urge to scream at him like she did back in the old days, when her brother wasn't so… different. Now she simply couldn't bring herself to be cocky at him. She sat next to him for a while, not daring to do anything.

Eventually Yuzu and Isshin came home as well; the two of them apparently gone somewhere. Ichigo didn't catch where as Karin left his side to greet them, but he didn't care. Ichigo curled himself together on the chair the best he could with his leg still outstretched and kept his face hidden in his arms. He didn't want his family to see his black eye, or his pathetic swollen face for that matter.

But as he heard his father moving beside him, after having let him be for some time after an ignored hello and asking what he was doing home already, Ichigo was forced to lift his face whether he wanted or not, so Isshin could place a plate in front of him. Ichigo rubbed his sore eye gently, wondering if he had fallen asleep at some point. He figured he must have, because time suddenly passed very quickly and dinner was already ready.

"What happened?" Isshin asked quietly, his eyebrows knitting together in worry at the severely swollen eye, nose and lip. Ichigo still stared firmly at the table, refusing to meet his father' eyes when he sat down next to him.

"Nothing happened," he mumbled, pulling his leg down from the chair with the help of his arm.

"Don't give me that Ichigo," Isshin's voice was turning stern. A light hand touched his shoulder. Ichigo pulled away, his eyes flickering to his father for a second before he looked away again.

"Don't touch us," he said almost automatically and struggled to his feet, grabbing his cane and limping over to the staircase, determined to make his way up on his own. If he couldn't make is way up a staircase, then what the hell could he do?

"Ichigo, why don't you come back down and eat with us?" It wasn't a really a question. His father's voice was still firm.

"We're not hungry," he stated, voice emotionless.

"Come anyway, keep us company," his father grabbed his arm and met Ichigo's eyes. To the boy's surprise Isshin eyes weren't angry in the least. Instead, they were sad, as if begging Ichigo to come. Ichigo sighed, but stayed firm on the stair.

But as his little sister walked up next to Isshin, asking kindly if Ichigo would like to eat the food she had made, he couldn't get himself to refuse. Not to his sister. So he slowly stepped down the four steps he had managed to get up, Isshin helping him even if he received an angry glare for it.

The dinner was noisy, Isshin babbling away mostly with himself about how wonderful his adventure to the shopping mall with his beautiful young daughter had been. Ichigo tuned out most of it, poking his fork into the meat on his plate that his father had cut into small parts for him as he couldn't do it himself. It was distasteful, the food dull on his tongue. Would he ever be able to eat normally again, after knowing what pure life tasted like? How a soul could put his being on fire?

He didn't eat much and he settled with only sipping at the water until the plates were removed, not a word leaving him during the entire meal. But when Isshin sat down next to him again Ichigo glared at him once more. What now?

"What happened at school Ichigo? Did you get into a fight?"

Isshin was rewarded with a very small nod before Ichigo looked away again.

"Did… did you loose control?" The question was asked quietly, Isshin knowing the subject was a very touchy one. Ichigo only shook is head in a firm no, but still said nothing. Isshin gave a sigh.

"You can't get into fights now Ichigo, you have to take it easy. You're not well, you have to understand that." Isshin moved a hand through his bearded chin. "I don't know what's poisoning your body. Its something I haven't seen before, and I don't know what can happen if you run off picking fights with everyone, especially in your condition!"

"It's not like we started it!" Ichigo suddenly shouted, glaring. Isshin gave him a questioning look, like saying 'are you sure?' Ichigo ignored it. "We're not going back there, anyway."

"Why not?"

Ichigo sighed irritably at the question. "It's too fucking difficult. You won't understand anyway."

Isshin said nothing, only giving Ichigo a strange look he didn't know how to interpret. But then he stood, not wanting to start an argument, knowing what Ichigo hinted at and spread his arms. "Here, let me help you upstairs." He offered instead.

"Fine." Ichigo mumbled after a moment of silence and stood.

The rest of the day and night passed and eventually morning came. With a groan Ichigo did his best to get dressed and being quiet enough so no one would come in and help him doing so. The humiliation it would bring was not wanted. It was hard and took time, but he managed. It was frustrating to get his unresponsive arm through the cloth of his shirt, painful to wrestle his injured leg through his black jeans.

He was still in a foul mood, the headache getting the better of him, especially after he had managed to eat his nutrients.

Eventually his father came, surprised yet pleased to see that Ichigo had gotten dressed on his own. He gave his son his medicine and offered to take him downstairs. Ichigo only shrugged and let Isshin take it the way he wanted, which ended up with the boy being on the lower floor, staring at breakfast with disgust. Not that he let his face show that.

Ichigo snapped out of his mental battle with a glass of orange juice when he had to wrench away from the hand that touched his shoulder.

"What!" He spit.

"Aren't you going to school?" Isshin asked. "I can drive you there again if you wish," he offered.

Ichigo slowly put down his drink and glared at his father.

"We told you already. We aren't going back to school," he said firmly and clearly, as if he were talking to someone dense.

"You have to go, Ichigo! You can't avoid your friends who worry about you! You need friends in troubled times!"

"Friends aren't scared of what you are - friends don't try to murder you! And parents don't lie about what they really are - that they're fucking dead!" Ichigo spit and barred his teeth, hissing, not thinking as he growled at his father and rose to his feet. He almost stood eye to eye with Isshin, the height difference sleight.

Isshin drew back at the suddenly sound, as if he was dealing with a dangerous dog. He didn't let himself get scared, but his own mood swung at his son's actions. He was doing everything he could to help Ichigo, but all he got in return was constant anger.

"Look at you! Reduced to a thoughtless beast! What would your mother say?" He said without thinking. Ichigo winced, knowing the words rang true.

But it wasn't by choice, far from it. He knew very well that he had become the same sort of monster that had killed and eaten his mother. Another monstrous growl thoughtlessly escaped him as his chest ached at the lingering hit from what his father had said.

"Stop that!" Isshin's voice was harsh and with no rational thought his hand curled together and swung itself at his son and hit the boy square in the face.

"What the hell are you doing! Ah! Shit!" Ichigo cursed, not expecting the hit even if perhaps he should have. His father always hit him didn't he? He clutched his still sore face.

"I'm sorry!" Isshin instantly burst out, not knowing what got into him to hit his defenceless son. Maybe it was an act from the fights he had had before, he didn't know. To fight the hollow that threatened the shinigami. That instinct ran deep in his veins, just as he knew Ichigo's instinct to consume him did, too.

"Yeah, right! You're lying again, aren't you!" Ichigo screamed, his voice breaking. Ichigo looked around himself, wishing to leave his father's side. He knew storming up to his room was out of the question. He headed for the door.

"Ichigo," his father's call was ignored and he kept going for the door. "Ichigo, where are you going!"

"Anywhere but here!" Ichigo spat.

"You can't leave and go wandering aimlessly! You're not well, Ichigo!" Isshin quickly walked up to him and grabbed his arm. "I'm sorry for hitting you!"

"Weren't you the one that said we had to go to school!" Ichigo shouted, doing his best to get out of his father's grasp and ignoring the pleas for forgiveness. "Let go!"

In a burst of anger, Ichigo swung his cane, wielding it as if it was his trusted Zangetsu and the tip of it rammed itself into Isshin's soft torso. He bent over, clutching his abdomen in pain, a hurt yelp escaping him. Before Isshin even had a chance to explain himself, Ichigo grabbed the nearest object he could find, an empty glass fruit-bowl that stood on the television table.

Isshin went down, falling to the floor grabbing his head in pain, gasping. He tried to get up and stop his son from leaving, but he was too dizzy and the pain was too intense. He just wanted to explain, saying he was afraid Ichigo would get hurt if he went out alone. If Ichigo went to school he know where he was and could come and help if he had to. He just wanted his troubled son to be alright, that was all he ever wanted!

Taking no chances Ichigo limped out into the dressing room and put on his shoes the fastest he could, despite his condition. He wrenched a jacket down from the holder, a grey one with fur on the hood. But when he was just about to shove the door open and storm out his eyes caught on something in the open drawer that stood next to the cloth hangers.

He couldn't believe his luck, his sisters probably forgetting to close it when going for school. Inside it he saw none other than his wallet. He dove for it before he rushed outside, his father almost up from the floor, telling his son not to leave. Ichigo only growled at him.

"Shinigami trash!" One final roar at his father before he left.

The boy stormed out, limping off to the left unthinkingly, walking nowhere in particular. Away, just the hell away. Not matter how much his leg screamed and made him want to curl into a ball Ichigo kept going. He had to get away from his father, away from the shinigami.

He walked past a small store, one that he had gone to quite a few times back when he was as normal as he had ever been, buying candy like a greedy child. As he walked past the entrance, a grey dog suddenly started barking at him, its jaws threatening to bite.

But to Ichigo it was just a brighter blob in the shining world. Ugh, he wished for his sunglasses. The animal continued to growl and snarl without Ichigo knowing why. He drew back, barring his own teeth unthinkingly. He had the urge to roar back, to show it who was the stronger beast. But he fought against it and turned on his heel, leaving the dog before the animal's frantic barking would draw too much attention.

He headed east, walking across a road and into the tighter built residential area. The boy sat down on a swing after coming across a small, deserted playground. There he sat, bent forward in the car tire, clutching his leg. He clenched his jaw set and his weary bloodshot eyes squeezed together. A few people walked by, but he paid them no attention. He gazed into the brown sand below his feet, swallowing hard before his only moveable hand fingered through his lifeless hair.

For quiet some time he stat there, slowly rock back and forth in the swing trying to still the empty, ever screaming hole in his chest and the biting pain. To make the monster inside of it still, as it had stirred when the dog had barked at him… _The dog._

Unthinkingly the teen was already off the swing and heading in the direction of the store once more, an urge to kill growing strong. He knew he had eaten too little before and now he had to pay for it. Soul Society didn't keep track of animals, did they? They just let them die, no after life for them… Perfect.

However, he did his best to stay sane; he knew he had to leave his own body to be able to eat it. He dared no to split with it first and then go get the dog, afraid something might happen to his body like last time. As he went back he took another way, to find a place to commit his murder.

Lucky for him, the new way he took held a construction site, two new houses being built. At first Ichigo had only frowned at it, thinking he'd been gone so long even houses had grown without him noticing. But no one was around and he could easily slip inside the concrete walls and slay the animal.

As he walked past, inspecting the area, something caught his eye, something shining in the grass. At first he though it was some sort of insect he could devour, but it was the gleam from a forgotten monkey-wrench. Ichigo bent down slowly like an old man, picking taking it and eyed it. It was heavy in his hand, the cold steel shining. For a second he could swear it flashed red, blood dripping over it. A weapon. Quickly he tucked it inside his jacket to take with him.

The dog once again barked as Ichigo glared at it, but this time he let his instincts slip just a little. His eyes had darted back and forth quickly in their sockets, making sure none would see him, he let go of his cane and let the wrench slip out from beneath his jacket. Swiftly he brought it down over the animal and hid it again as fast as he had taken it forth.

The once barking dog immediately went quiet, uttering only low whimpers and wails from the hit. Ichigo paid the whine little interest, much too busy getting the knot the dog's lead was attached to away from the bicycle fence with just one hand.

Grabbing the cane again and getting up, he held the lead firm, forcing the still whimpering dog with him. It took longer to get back to the construction site than Ichigo would have liked, his leg hurting more and more the longer he walked. But once they finally arrived Ichigo made sure none saw him enter the concrete walls and he pulled the dog with him. In there he bound the lead firmly to a steel pipe.

The monkey wrench was in his hand again after Ichigo had taken off his jacket, despite his limp arm. The dog immediately started to whine again and its tail went in between its legs at the sight of the weapon.

But the teen acted if he had not seen or heard it and with a shout he swung the wretch down again. The dog yelped and tried to get away, but its collar held it and there was no escape as the weapon once again hit its ribs.

It wasn't long until Ichigo managed to draw blood as the dog barked and whimpered as it panicked, jumping around widely and trying to bite. The teen was careless, getting a bit desperate to make the dog stop barking and the animal managed to skink its fangs into Ichigo's arm.

Ichigo screamed, his hungry, foggy mind making him stop thinking rationally. He should have left his body before he started attacking. He hissed and dropped the wrench, letting it clatter loudly to the ground.

Blood flowed from the deep bite-marks and his forearm was covered in thin, river-like streams of blood. Ichigo couldn't help but to push his arm into his mouth, his tongue greedily licking at the blood and his eyes rolled into his skull. He moaned through his nose and bit down over the flesh. His arm shook and he fell to the ground as he was loosing control over his actions and leaned his bad leg. The rough landing made him a little more aware of his surroundings and he stopped eating on his own body.

With a groan he stretched out his legs, getting better access to his jeans pockets, moving his bloody fingers to grab at the wallet that lay inside. Finally getting it out, his fingers fumbling due to the pain, its content was spread over the ground and with a sweaty forehead and mad looking eyes, Ichigo finally got the pills out from the coin holder.

The dog was dead quickly after that, Ichigo's masked face and inky black tongue lapping harshly at the limp body; nothing else mattered more than getting that burning feeling the dog's blood provided into every single cell of his body.

He felt his so very skinny chest twist and turn, his veins burn and then, suddenly, his muscles seemed to contract. His hole was closing. It quickly twisted, ripped and painfully slammed itself shut, leaving no mark of ever being there. In that exact moment the boy became whole and perfect again, finally, after so much waiting.

Ichigo's eyes rolled back into his skull again and in a tremor, with a lust filled shout, Ichigo fell back, his skeleton of a body twitching in ecstasy. A shrill laugh escaped him as a strong feeling of euphoria exploded from within as life filled his entire being. His world flashed white. Ichigo moaned and writhed on the ground in pleasure, his hand fisting at his side. All dread and sorrow in the world left his mind, leaving only happiness behind. His sour face distorted into one of beaming joy, the smile twitching ever wider. But as suddenly as it had all come, it died away.

No blood made its way up his throat this time as Ichigo regained his lost mind, the beast within satisfied and the hole in the chest so much easier to bear as it ripped its way back. Ichigo leaned against his clawed arm as he moved to sit against the wall. His left arm still wasn't responding to anything, the large scar visible along it even now. Ichigo spit through his mask, the once smiling face distorting into anger.

His arm wasn't working, not even now after all the blood and the removal of his corporal body. Ichigo grabbed it, his long claws digging into its skin, but still the boy felt nothing. His anger turned into worry, all good feelings were gone as and a whimper escaped him.

His arm was completely dead.

It hadn't really hit him before, as he had clung onto the idea that it was only the human body that was faulty and that once he was out, everything was going to be alright. But the arm only flopped uselessly at his side. The boy curled himself together against a grey concrete wall, realization hitting him. He would never have a second arm again.

Ichigo tried shaking it, making horrid little sounds of desperation, like the bleats of an animal as he felt nothing, not even when he slapped the floppy hand into the wall in some morbid attempt to wake it up.

Not even when he used enough force for some loose rock on the wall to get stuck in the skin for a few seconds before falling off did it respond. The small sounds in his throat increased and Ichigo desperately tried to massage feeling back into his arm and hand. He even bit on the fingers, scratched at them and again. But he felt nothing, even when he almost punctured his skin when he pushed too hard with his long, sleek claws.

He stopped prodding it, afraid he might cut it open without noticing. Carefully he held his hand, pushing lightly into the palm. Still no response. Not even a feeling of the arm being numb and ants crawling inside of it.

The flies that had already gathered around the dead dog that lay with wide eyes and open mouth next to him seemed to have grown ten folds. The dog's tongue hung limply to the ground from its throat, large claw marks and holes in its gut made its innards smear over floor, bile and body-fluids mingling with sand where the grass and flies greedily sucked it up. 

The teen bit his lip and rose from the floor, holding his appendage. He walked up to his human body, staring down at it through the mask and tried to cherish the thought that at least his leg was still working properly in his soul body. It was only perhaps a little stiff and still made him limp a bit, but nothing like in the physical one. It was rather unnoticeable and he tried to cherish that at least something good came from getting out of his human body.

At first Ichigo only stared at his corpse of a body as it lay against the cold, dirty ground. His clawed hand moved over the body's bitten arm, knowing it would hurt even more to walk, as pain would shoot through that arm as well when he would lean on his cane.

Even so Ichigo entered his already stiffening body. After all, every second out of it made the possibility to ending up on the Soul Society's computers stronger, no matter how well he hid his spirit energy.

Eventually the teen found himself at the nearest river so he could find to wash his stinging wound. The river had been no other than the Karasu River, where his mother had lost her life. He sighed as he washed away the sweat on his face in it. He sat staring out at the water, his jacket back on, the empty arm of it swinging in the wind.

"Mother…" He whispered to the breeze. "We're so, so sorry mother! We never meant for this to happen!" He suddenly burst out, his voice twisting as tears silently made their way down his cold cheeks. The first real tears from grief in a long, long time were surprising to him and unsettling. His eyes stung, become hot. His vision blurred. Disbelieving, he raised his one shaky hand to touch the warm tracks on his cheeks. Quickly, he wiped them away with the sleeve of his jacket. "We didn't mean to… W-we never meant to become a monster!"

Ichigo curled up, a sadness and shame he didn't know he held washing over him. He slammed his fist against the ground, not caring how much it hurt.

"We're a monster now, mother," he whispered, eyes flickering back and forth on the ground, as if he was afraid to meet eyes with the water he could clearly hear, as if it was his mothers eyes. "The very same thing that took your life…We're so sorry…"

The boy curled together tighter, the best he could without increasing his ache. However he left the comforting darkness he had found when pushing his head against his knee when he heard someone slowly approach. He did nothing to acknowledge his father as he sat down next to him. He did, however, have to do something when Isshin shoved a long scarf in front of him with a silent 'here.'

At first Ichigo had been puzzled at the item but as he stared out over the river again, he saw rain droplets play on the surface of the water. The boy took the long scarf, wrapping it around his neck tightly and dried his eyes and cheeks better. The cloth was so much more comfortable than the cold wind.

A thick silence hung over the two, only the rustle of the wind making any sound. Ichigo could hear Isshin move as if uncomfortable and a hand travelled through the old man's beard. There was a troubled sigh. Ichigo curled together tighter.

"I'm sorry, Ichigo. I didn't mean what I said and did." His voice was low and serious. "I've been so worried, it turned into anger and I acted out of line… I… I'm only trying to help. But it's so hard when you keep pushing me away."

"We're a hollow, dad. We can't help it…" Ichigo answered after another moment of silence, not looking at his father as he did, his face turned away and staring into the ground where his stiff fingers pulled at the cold grass.

"I know, but you're still my son. No matter what happens." There was suddenly was a rather rough pat on his back and Ichigo growled lowly. "And that's not an excuse; you don't even look like a hollow!"

Isshin laughed lowly, trying to cheer his son up at least a little, but he was only rewarded with a quiet sigh, as if saying 'you don't understand anything'.

The forced laugh died away and he himself stared at the grass uncomfortably. Slowly time passed and when he couldn't stand the immensely stiff silence any longer; for it ate at his heart, he rose from the ground.

"Son," Isshin carefully placed a soft hand on the boy's shoulder. Ichigo did his best not to push it away. "Let's go home, its getting cold. Will you walk with me?"

Ichigo only grunted in reply, but rose from the ground. It was hard to get up on his own and his father moved to help carefully, afraid to be rejected. But this time Ichigo didn't, his mind too tired to even care. They walked back together in uncomfortable silence.

**End of Chapter**


	27. Man of Las Noches

**Chapter 27: Man of Las Noches**

Ichigo Kurosaki awoke feeling awful.

Heartache ran him through and a queasy stomach made him feel like his innards were leaving him in gory heaps. He felt hollow inside; gray, cold and empty.

Lying still he took stock of his various aches and pains. His head pounded and his muscles ached, his nerves still jumping and shivering from… something he couldn't remember. His chest felt tight and his throat raw from what felt like coughing and he couldn't breathe through his nose. What had happened? He thought he had gone to bed after another quiet, uncomfortable night with his father and sisters.

He hadn't really spoken to his family, wanting to leave their side and be left alone. He had only grunted when they wanted something, such as making him eat popcorn while they watched a movie… Saving Private Something, he wasn't really paying attention. He had just been staring straight at the screen without seeing until his father had finally agreed to help him upstairs after requesting it a few times. Then it was blank. A black nothing that was made of thick sludge.

Suddenly a shadow moved above and jerked Ichigo out of his attempt to remember. Someone, his father, was leaning down towards him. A moan escaped Ichigo as a sudden light blinded his sight after one of his eyelids had been lifted by a gloved thumb.

The light moved back and forth over his field of vision, making him squint to block it out. But Isshin kept his eyelid firmly open before letting go and repeating the same procedure with the other eye. Ichigo gurgled and a comforting hand squeezed his shoulder.

"Shhh…" Isshin's soft voice hushed him.

"What happened…?" Ichigo's voice came out rasping and dry, surprisingly shaky-sounding.

At first he was given no answer, Isshin only giving off a strangled sigh, but it was enough for Ichigo to instantly know what he was about to say. Ichigo averted his eyes to the roof. He had lost control again, hadn't he? Badly enough to not remember it… When he looked back at his father and saw a reddening area around his neck and a slightly swollen eye, Ichigo dared not to think of the damaged he had caused.

The hand returned to squeeze his bony shoulder and a soft yet troubled smile grazed Isshin's tired face. Ichigo bit his lip, instantly wrenching his eyes away from his father's artery and he couldn't stop himself from asking the same question again. "What happened?"

"You… you lost control again."

Ichigo cringed at the words, even if he knew Isshin was going say them. Already? But he had just eaten the dog…

"Did… Are you hurt?" Ichigo choked out, the words almost getting stuck in his throat. He turned his head away from his father even more.

"Nothing to worry about. I managed to help you again like before. But I'm afraid we ran out of… that food of yours. And… you wouldn't stop crying…"

Ichigo briefly glanced back at his father at the last sentence and blinked stupidly. He did what? Did he have some sort of an emotional fit and never managed to snap out of it?

"Ichigo." Isshin's voice wasn't all that soft anymore, a seriousness coating the worry. "In the last six hours you vomited uncontrollably, passed out multiple times, sobbed yourself into a stupor and almost committed suicide." Isshin said, before carefully grabbing Ichigo's too thin wrists to gently stroke them.

"What?" Ichigo's mouth went dry and his voice turned into a low whisper. "I don't remember any of that…"

He blinked several times again, his mind groggy, unsure over the completely blank memory of told events. Six hours...? Suddenly he felt like vomiting again and he swallowed down hot bile that rose in his throat.

He stared at Isshin's bare arms and to his dismay he couldn't help but to notice several darker areas on one of his forearms, round blunt dark spots. Finger marks? They were in the pattern of a hand clenching. Had he done that? Squeezed with inhuman strength and almost crushed his father's arm?

Three times in two weeks he had attacked his father. He had acted out on his sister too before he had wandered out into the neighbourhood and gotten attacked. Before it all he had harmed Orihime as well. He couldn't restrain himself. He wasn't human anymore.

Monster. Monster. _Monster._

Brown eyes clamped shut, tattered and sunken in face pulling together, Ichigo's dark truth ever present. Why was he so weak? Where had his resolve gone?

_It left when everyone you trusted turned on you._

"How do you feel?" Isshin's voice broke his brooding thoughts.

"How the hell do you think we feel?" Ichigo tried to infuse the words with anger, but he was too tried and too depressed to manage it. He wasn't okay and hadn't been for a long time. He hated that damn question.

"Sorry…" Isshin mumbled, hearing the anger that tried to penetrate the rasp of his son's swollen throat. Carefully he moved his thumb over Ichigo's hand, finding the skin there dry and sandpaper-like.

But Isshin didn't mind that his son tried to sound angry, because as long as Ichigo was talking he was glad, since that was something Ichigo hadn't done in the last six hours. He had just cried, screamed, or made sounds of harsh grunts and growls Isshin couldn't interpret. Some things had sounded like attempts to talk, but he knew they weren't; it was easy to see there was no logic in his son's eyes.

They had been mad, deranged and without any reason. It had pained him to see them like that, and Isshin wished he never had to see his son like that ever again. But he knew that the wish would go unheard, for his son was a hollow now and was meant to become like… like that every time his body ran out life.

"The air feels like… sludge. And my chest hurts. The heart," Ichigo mumbled, making it his turn to force Isshin to stop his own train of dreadful thoughts, before his fingers gripped the bedspread as he coughed a harsh, grating cough.

Carefully Isshin frowned a little at the sound of. "You just need to rest and it will pass. I'm sure."

"No it won't…" Ichigo mumbled underneath his breath and looked away.

"What was that?" Isshin asked carefully with a soft voice, leaning a little closer to Ichigo to hear better. However Ichigo drew back at that, his skull crushing the pillow beneath. His face contorted into one of mild aversion for a brief second before it turned into a stiff nothing.

Isshin stopped advancing, realising Ichigo didn't want anyone too close and he gave a small smile instead as he sat back in the chair again, fiddling with his own fingers and looking at the floor. Silently, he wondered if he would ever be able to talk to his son normally again and a strangled sigh escaped him.

"Um… Have your headaches gotten any better?" Isshin mumbled, wanting nothing more than the suffocating silence to end, thus forcing out any kid of conversation.

"No. They're like hot needles drilling into my skull."

Regretting asking as soon as he heard the low answer and the snappy voice of his son, Isshin tugged at his lip and felt the rough texture of his own beard before his teeth glided past. To stop his uneasy fiddling, he reached for the glass of water that stood on his son's desk.

He had almost forgotten he had even placed it there, bubbles from an effervescent tablet clinging desperately to the surface of the water before popping into oblivion. Isshin's large hand closed around the glass and offered it to his son. He still couldn't help put to feel a stab of sadness every time he looked at Ichigo's face. It was ghastly – sunken eyes, waxen skin and colourless lips. He looked half dead.

Ichigo's shaking hand, that looked more like the hand of a pale skeleton than a human one, reached up to hold the glass Isshin was offering. He almost dropped it when his father let go, the glass heavier than Ichigo expected. Ichigo's eyebrows dug deeper into his skull as Isshin caught the glass before any water was spilled.

"Oh!" Isshin burst out. "Let me help you."

Reluctantly, Ichigo accepted the help and sipped at the water slowly. The taste of the water was disgusting from the tablet, but nevertheless he drank it all.

"That will make you feel better in no time!"

"Yeah…" The boy mumbled, his voice sinking even further into itself. "Thanks dad…" Ichigo tried to smile reassuringly, but failed. It was a pale smile, just a ghost of the real thing, barren of amusement, tired and miserable. But better than nothing.

As Isshin left about quarter of an hour later without finding anything to say, Ichigo let out a deep breath of air he didn't even know he had been holding. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into a ball and cry again, just let what was left of his tears pour forth until all the moisture in his body was gone. Until he dried up, crumbled into dust and ceased to exist.

Cease to exist.

It was tickling the back of his mind, the want to make it all just go away. Even so, the suicidal thoughts surprised him. But the again, for all he had gone through, wasn't death by his own hand just something he deserved? _Yes…_

_Damn it._ Immobilized by a terrible weight of self-loathing, Ichigo's throat clogged again and some sort of strangled whine escaped him. He wanted to leave his gaunt body; the shuddering corpse that he hated. Leave it and never see it again.

But what would he do after? After the rush of being free was gone, then what would he do…? The stealth the corporal body provided would be gone and he would be many times easier to find. But he would be free. No more limping, no more pain.

With a low groan Ichigo struggled to sit up. He smeared his finger over his face after removing the nasal cannula. Every breath he took made his entire body shake and rattle. He wanted to get away from it, to wrench his soul free.

Ichigo's face grew grim and he slid a little further off the edge of the bed. Reaching and getting a grip on his dark brown cane, he heaved himself up from the bed with a groan.

After swallowing a lump of saliva he headed for the door to lock it. Turning around slowly he went over to the chair where his clothes lay since yesterday. Letting go of the cane he took out the wallet there, placed it upon the desk and unzipped the coin holder to take out a small, seemingly harmless pill.

Slowly he rolled it between his index finger and thumb. Looking out the window, Ichigo wondered what had happened to the world that once held his hand when he was a child. What happened to the good world he lived in? He never wished to see the horror of it all, never wanted to see those who dwelled behind. The pill was squeezed tightly in his fist.

For a brief second he wished his mother was there to hold his hand and guide him like she once did. To be guided out of the darkness that engulfed him. To smile when he was sad and be brought back to the happiness he had lost. He wanted to see her again _so badly_. But he couldn't, and he ruthlessly dismissed the thought before it got the better of him. He was miserable enough as it was.

The white ball rolled between his dry, thin fingers and his nails clawed at the smooth surface. He bit his lip.

"I hate what has become of me… This trembling, frightened thing I have become," he mumbled to no one; just to himself as he closed his eyes and slowly lifted the pill so it met with his lips.

If he left now his father would have to struggle with hooking his body up to the respirator again and slowly watch it wither away like flower without water. But then Ichigo wouldn't attempt to attack his father or anyone else. He wouldn't pose a threat to his sisters either or his once-friends. Wouldn't lash out and loose whatever little control he had, wouldn't turn into what he feared the most.

Everyone would be safe and out of harms way. Auburn eyes squeezed shut, holding back thick tears of self-pity.

The round pill was swallowed. The reaction was instantaneous and Ichigo's soul was ripped from his body with a scream, which he made sure to voice within a closed mouth, which was a thin line in his agonised face. As soon as his gaunt soul was out his clawed hand quickly reached for his human body, which tried to run away on its own, the pill controlling it for a short amount of time.

Ichigo heaved his own body up, holding it around the waist as the legs pumped on their own accord. It was hard to not have it run into anything and shove the things off the few shelves he had, but he did his best to stand still and stay quiet.

His own flesh and blood body's twitching eventually died down and the boy placed his own body on the bed again, doing his best to make it look like he hadn't left it. He knew it wasn't breathing, but he didn't have time or knowledge to hook it up on anything. He just hoped his dad would find it soon and fix it.

After all, he was pretty sure his father would notice him opening the gargantuan, thus come running at top speed and if Ichigo timed it right, find an empty room and a body with no soul in it. Ichigo bit his lip again, two red marks forming on it from his front teeth. This was mean to his father and his sisters.

His only hand pushed against his face. He was an awful brother and son, he knew. All his father wanted was for him to be alright, he knew that, too. But being alright meant leaving this place.

It wasn't long until Ichigo scribbled a note, no matter how hard it was to hold the pen with talons for fingertips.

_Thanks for everything._

Throwing the pen aside and placing the note on his body, ignoring that it looked like a three-year-old had written the text, Ichigo took a deep breath and straightened. With a last quick glance at his gaunt body, Ichigo did his best to hold his breath despite his completely open lungs and raised his hand. Slowly he focused energy into it, feeling his skin prickle as it started to glow. His eyes slid shut and he focused on his hollow powers that lay under the thick coat of shinigami ones.

Instantly his inner demon responded with a low rumble inside his head and the mask poured out of his face, its ever present grin as strong as always over Ichigo's displeased one. His hand shone a dark black and he though of Las Noches, the large dome-like shape and the sands around it. It wasn't a positive thought, but he knew going to the vast desert was better than staying, because there he would not hurt is frail family.

A buzzing, grinding sound rang thought the still air and a fine slit tore the very world itself apart. The portal shred open, the black hole suspended in the air from his power alone. It was rather strange, the boy feeling like he was performing black magic. Even so, it was a little out of his control, the darkness growing bigger in his small room whether he wanted it to or not.

Carefully, Ichigo tried his best to stabilise it without much success and the black hole was threatening to collapse at any minute. Also, he was sure his father was already awake and perhaps his sisters, too. As if someone had heard his thoughts, pounding footsteps came from the other side of the closed door. Seconds later someone was pulling at the handle.

"Ichigo!" Isshin's voice rang strong and loud as he banged on the door.

With nothing but regret for leaving his family behind, Ichigo threw himself past the already collapsing jaws of the portal. Darkness closed around him and with little delay did it reopen, white sand the only thing within view.

Shaking, Ichigo stepped out, and as if drawing its final breath before dying, the black gargantuan closed behind him. The sand blew up and whipped about as Ichigo stood in the white sand, eyes squinting as he gazed upon the many hundreds of sand dunes. He couldn't even see the palace in the horizon, but returning to Las Noches wasn't a good idea just yet, he knew, as he had not been collected to do so.

A trouble sigh escaped his already dry mouth and Ichigo took a few steps forward and unexpectedly started to sink. Quickly he moved into a sprint, hoping the sinking would stop.

Grunting, Ichigo's legs kept going deeper in the sand. This was pointless; he couldn't get himself to stay above the sand without running. He had no destination and constantly running to nowhere wasn't a thought that pleased the boy. Ichigo's face worked not to scream out in irritation and frustration as he fell to his knees.

A dreamlike panic seemed to wash over his entire body, consuming him like a drug. Thoughts slurred together, bumping into one another, stabbing his brain as they wiggled about. His body froze, lost in a flood of hazy fear and the mask crumbled from his face.

A low wail of desperation escaped the boy. His resolve lay in ashes, his body was torn into shreds and his will was seeping out of its holes. He had nothing at all, not even a heart to call his.

Everything he held was again lost. He had left his already shattered 'loving family' that held together in its so very fragile bonds. Again he made those silk bonds tear because of his absence.

Slowly, Ichigo's gaunt and mangy body hit the sand as he curled into a ball. It was cool against his skin, as it ran between his white, clawed fingers. Ran like the blood from a wound. Ran like his life had done from good to worse to bad.

Numbly, he watched the sand slowly move over him, his eyes still wide from the cloudy fear that pulsed through every part of his body and rendered him immobile. The sand slowly started to pull him down deeper and deeper to the forest and its fog below.

Soon most of his body was completely covered, sand filling his lungs and moving over his head and mingling with his dirty hair. Without the will to struggle, Ichigo let the sand engulf him and soon he was swallowed up by the quicksand that greedily sucked him down.

With a yelp Ichigo fell once the sand stopped and he slammed into thin branches of the crystal trees that grew inside the underground forest. Quickly he twisted in the air as it rushed past him forcefully, the air knocking some parts of his mind back into gear.

He reached out with his hand for the branches that he kept bumping into painfully, in a desperate attempt to get a grip somewhere and stop falling. It took him quiet a few tries before he got a grip hard enough to stop his descent. With a harsh tug in his elbow and shoulder he managed to hang still and with his breath wheezed through his throat and nose and a strained scream, Ichigo pulled his body up with his only arm.

The surface of the tree was cold against his forehead and his breath spread out over the shiny surface. Slowly, Ichigo crawled backward until his buttocks hit against the stem of the tree. There he curled up, looking out over the sea of thick milky fog.

He hadn't intended on falling so viciously, if intending anything at all. Ichigo moved his hand through his untamed hair. He had fallen further than he'd liked.

Swirling patches of darker pale and coiling twists of pure white were all around, the fog swaying even here at the height he was. He was far up enough to not be reached by the large Menos Grande that loomed high in the forest themselves.

Carefully, Ichigo watched them over the edge of the branch, seeing their long nosed, masked faces unmoving as a herd marched through a more open area. They seemed calm, as if the hole in their chest wasn't bothering them; or, Ichigo thought as he frowned_, is it the other way around?_ Was it bothering them so much they couldn't do anything else? Just walk around blindly, wandering anywhere without thinking, just to move to make the dread that clogged inside their black coats lessen? In a desperate attempt to shake it loose?

Would he be doing that sometime? He was a hollow, after all. Wasn't the next stage a Menos Grande? To merge with the other distasteful hollows that lived in the soothing mist? To eat them all and become something new and perhaps, by a small chance, still cling onto his personality so desperately that his own mask's greedy smile would remain?

Ichigo's hand grazed the surface of his lips as he looked away. Did he have that much will to live left? That he would manage to force his existence out of a gathering of thousands? His jaw set and his eyes narrowed, some of his resolve trying to move back inside his body. He had to have it, even if he immediately doubted it. He would not let himself disappear from the world and become a dumb, towering Menos Grande. No way.

Curling together tighter, Ichigo took a deep breath, white fog swishing into his nostrils and his lungs. It soothed him, the thick air warm and moist. Liking it, his hand left his face to make his position a little more comfortable on the branch. He placed his unresponsive left one in his lap after inspecting it for damage he couldn't feel. Well enough it looked unharmed.

It wasn't long until Ichigo slumped against the tree and relaxed, the air he breathed seeming to lessen his headache. It lulled his senses, the milky air curling in under his skin and coiling around it, warming his cold body. He cradled his limp arm carefully and ever so slowly he closed his darkly rimed eyes, his deathly stiff face relaxing somewhat. Slowly, sleep took him over.

However, the calm of sleep didn't seem to rest upon him for long, his hyperactive senses tingling. Feeling something approach, or more or less hearing it, Ichigo jerked awake from his light slumber. Faint footsteps were running or walking on the branches around him. Little by little Ichigo stood, his protruding spine pressed against the hard surface of the tree's stem.

Slowly his white arm moved over his shoulder, to grab the hilt of his trusted cleaver. Once his claws wrapped around it he was suddenly pushed back with brutal force. A hand slammed into the collar around his neck, holding him pinned against the three and lifting him up. His head knocked painfully against the crystal behind him and Ichigo was forced to let go of his cleaver.

Tired auburn eyes met with the skeleton-mask of a gazelle.

How foolish he had been. How could he not have thought he would be found here? Ichigo knew the torture-collar he wore probably glared an angry red dot or whatever on their digital maps to keep an eye him. The execution squad must have seen him opening the portal from miles away.

It wasn't long until Ichigo found his weapon taken away from him, arms and legs bound with heavy shackles he knew from when he had been interrogated. He had tried to struggle, but the group consisted of many and he hadn't been able to do much on the narrow branch he was upon, anyhow.

"You're coming with us, Vizard."

Like he had any choice. Ichigo huffed and followed, his frown etching even deeper into his forehead. But to his mild surprise the group of white clad men were not travelling upward, but down. He was pulled downwards and, shamefully enough, carried from some branches as the restraints he now wore limited his movement enough to make him unable to climb over or down from some of the branches. Closer and closer to the sand covered bottom.

With soft sounds everyone landed, not much noise leaving anyone except for Ichigo's loudly clattering chains. The boy cursed at them, not liking the steel in the least as he was once more pushed through the thick fog. They were heavy and grinded painfully into his skin.

The group seemed to wander deeper and deeper where the white mist became even thicker. But Ichigo didn't ask where they were going, even when he could hardly make out the silhouette of the figure in front of him.

A sudden harsh tug at his chains made Ichigo stop with an irritated growl. Looking up from the ground he had been trying to make out to stop himself from falling over rocks, his eyes met with a very large white door. Instantly Ichigo's eyes narrowed as he recognised the door as one of Las Notches's. So Aizen even had a passage down here…

Slowly it was opened, the hinges creaking as if they were rusty from all damp air around it. Inside was a long stairway, one that Ichigo knew would be arduous to walk up, with restraints on or not. With another pull of the chains that bound him, he started the tedious ascend.

The white clothes Ichigo wore clung to his sweaty skin, his hair sticking irritatingly to his forehead again, but he did his best to try to hide his laboured breath. Carefully he eyed the others; none of them seemed tired, despite the fact that he couldn't see their faces underneath the masks. He had a sudden urge to summon his own again, but he stopped himself.

Once finally up the steep stairs the long march went on. But Ichigo didn't know if he wanted it to end, because by the chains he could tell he was either on his way to the deep underground cells he had been in before or worse.

But the cells never came and he was lead down many monotone, maze-like halls. After passing another corner into a new hall, one that Ichigo couldn't tell if he had been in before or not, he was faced with a massive wall. The leader of the Execution group touched it and the white wall vibrated before quietly sliding into another wall. Just like the Kidõ one Ichigo had in his room. A long, big, white marble hall appeared behind it.

Instantly, Ichigo knew he hadn't been taken where he had assumed he would be. The chains that clung to him were removed, but the large manacles and leg-iron remained. Roughly, Ichigo was shoved inside and the wall effortlessly shut behind him, leaving him alone.

Or as alone as he could be with the strictly aligned men that stood along the entire hall, expressionless masks hiding their faces. But as Ichigo looked away from the white barricade and soldiers he could make out an illuminated man sitting high up in a throne-like chair at the end of the vast hall.

_Great,_ he thought sarcastically.

Aizen Souske.

Slowly and carefully Ichigo made his way towards the man, his bonds clattering loudly against the marble floor. He could feel many eyes upon him, not matter how lonely he felt.

"Welcome, Ichigo."

Ichigo only stared at the man, not saying anything. However, as Ichigo did nothing, a sudden, unexpected hand against his neck forced him to bow down. With a silent grunt as the hand let go, Ichigo stretched his back again, huffing.

"I am concerned about your lack of following orders." Aizen's voice was firm, yet an odd friendly smile played at his lips, as if trying to hide the fact that he was annoyed.

"I find you returning without my calling. Why is this? I gave you a place to stay, let you walk around on your own without interfering and even sent you back to your family." The sly voice of the man filled the room. Ichigo was a bit stricken by the question, but eventually his fist clenched.

"What? We never wanted to return to Earth in the first place!" He shouted, his temper quickly rising, ignoring who he was addressing. "We don't like it in the real world and we weren't given any directives!"

"You were given directives. They were simple and easy to understand. Stay in your family's house. Spend time with them. I was kind and let you stay with the ones you loved, what more can you demand? Or are you not doing well with you relatives? Problems, perhaps? Hmm?"

"Problems! Our dad's a shi-" Instantly Ichigo bit his tongue. He couldn't involve his father in this. His father had tried to help! He had to remember that. However his sudden mention of the man seemed to gain him Aizen's attention.

"We don't like it there! All the questions and suspicious glances…! It's _so_ hard to keep focus!" Ichigo started to doubt his argument would hold himself firm, the spluttering of words not having any impact on the man.

"We were attacked!" Ichigo screamed out, once again shouting on impulse. "Did you know! We- fuck…" He growled at the restraints that held his arms firmly in place. Even the useless one was stuck, rendering him unable to show the tall man in front of him that his arm could not be used anymore. "We got attacked! Ambushed by shinigami! They attacked…"

"Listen!" he shouted, hoping to get Aizen's attention, who seemed bored and uninterested at the new topic the boy had brought up, and seemed to find his fingernails much more interesting. "We lost our arm!" He looked down at it before correcting himself. "We can't use it anymore! It won't move; it's as good as dead!"

"Ichigo, just because you don't like the place you are sent to doesn't mean you can go off and do whatever you please. Questions you'll have to answer with lies so no suspicion will rise. You have to be able to follow simple orders before the harder ones are received." Aizen changed position in his chair as if getting comfortable and leaning his chin against his fingers. He seemed ignore Ichigo's words altogether, much to Ichigo's irritation. "If you want to prove yourself worthy and gain the respect of others I suggest you start at the bottom and work your way up by following orders – not defying them."

"Can you promise me, Ichigo, that this will not happen again? That you will not run around on your own without me knowing? If you do not follow orders as expected I cannot protect you like I promised."

"What…?" Ichigo breathed, the question hitting him off guard. "Aren't you listening! We got attacked, shinigami tried to kill us again! It was nothing we could lie about! It's not our fault we had to go back! We never wanted to go back! It's not safe in the real world!"

"I didn't receive any messages of any larger troops appearing on the Earth. I hope you disposed of them and returned to laying low-"

"What? Yes! We did! But-" His words were cut short.

"Then let this mission be a lesson and do not let it happen again – or face the consequences of your actions. Dismissed."

"What? We're not done talking! Can't you see! Our arm won't mo-" Once again he tried to show him, despite the bindings. But as he stepped closer to Aizen to show it more easily, he could see the guards that stood lined up against walls reach for their swords and he stopped, not daring to go closer.

"Don't make me repeat myself." The voice came again, this time Aizen's eyes narrowed and Ichigo could feel the aura around him get threatening. Suddenly spirit energy blasted out of the man's body, completely taking the boy by surprise. It wasn't long until he was down on his knees, his hand doing its best to keep him from sprawling across the ground. His eyes widened as he gasped for breath.

"I believe I made myself clear - dismissed." The tall man boomed, his voice louder than before. Ichigo's jaw clenched and he tried to rise against the pressure. But he didn't dare to even it out with his own. He had no way of protecting himself if things got worse – he didn't want another fight.

But as suddenly as the suffocating energy had appeared it levelled out, Ichigo's hard breathing seeming to be the only sound in the room. Through the slits of his eyes he saw Aizen's hand make some gesture and one of the lined up guards stepped forward to pull the protesting boy way.

Ichigo growled under his breath. What was with that man? He was completely ignoring everything he said and only wondering if he had killed the shinigami that had attacked. Probably just to make sure his own high and mighty ass was safe so he didn't need to get out of that chair of his.

"Fucking asshole…" Ichigo whispered, not bothering to stop himself even if the arrancar that was pulling him along the corridor heard. Aizen probably only wanted Ichigo locked up in his quarters so he could use him whenever he pleased. Like a tool lying in a box waiting to be used. To be out of the way.

Maybe the entire place was just a fraud; make him feel like he was here because he was wanted and not because he was just a simple pawn that could be used like any other espada and arrancar. Angrily Ichigo kicked at the wall as he was once more shoved into his quarters. Ichigo was sick of all the demands and constant urging to be cast in their form, to be exactly like Aizen and the arrancar wanted and have no will of his own.

Another agitated snarl escaped him and Ichigo flopped down on the bed before grabbing his cleaver that had been carelessly thrown in with him to place it against the near wall. His face grew grim as his brown eyes fixed on the white surface of the left wall. Maybe his decision on staying wasn't a good one? Was this really the better way? But then again he doubted a 'no' would have been accepted, only resulting with him being bound to a wall in the cells again.

Would he really be better off if he hadn't been found by Grimmjow in the desert? Then he would eventually have sunken into the forest, wouldn't he? What would he have done there? Fought everyday for survival inside the mist? Probably.

It didn't seem like a better option. Here at least he had a bed to sleep in, food he didn't like but food nonetheless. He no longer had to run from unseen danger everyday. The enemies he had here did not attack without a word, didn't sneak up behind his back. They punched him straight in the face and dragged him of to that dam training hall to beat him up. It wasn't good here either, but it was better than it could have been.

Slowly Ichigo turned to lie down, but quickly sat up again as lying on his left arm bothered him, as he could only feel he was doing so with the side of his torso and not with the arm at all. Grunting, Ichigo tried not to think about it and stood up instead, pulling the bedcover down to the floor. One of his feet secured it there and, with a firm grip, he pulled a piece of it away. Ichigo did his best to string it together into a firm knot with the help of his mouth.

Once the two ends were firmly together, Ichigo moved the garment to hang over one shoulder and then over his back, making it form an x-like shape over his chest. Carefully he tucked is limp arm inside. The elbow rested in one loop and the hand in the other of the homemade sling. He fiddled a bit with it for a while and the outcome pleased him. It kept the arm close to his body and out of the way. Better than having it swing and sway uselessly at his side.

Ichigo sat down the bed again, feeling it lower and form around his skinny behind. Leaning back ever so slowly over the soft bed, he felt his headache creep back over him, a migraine like the others forming on the inside of his forehead, only to burn and sear there until he felt like vomiting. Soon he found himself on the floor, his sharp claws digging into his temples. He gritted his teeth.

Oddly enough it made him think of his father again and the dreamlike panic seemed to wash over his entire body again, once more consuming him like a drug.

"You made the right decision in leaving…" Ichigo mumbled under his breath to himself, as if hearing the words would strengthen his self-deception.

The boy tried desperately to relax, but rest would not come to his troubled mind and he clawed at the edges of his hole after opening his white uniform's jacket. He tried to swallow the panic, but it was like a bitter taste that lay too far down on the tongue to wash away when he swallowed. His fingers pushed harder no matter how odd it felt to pushing at the rim, some sort of numb, yet oddly pleasant pain coming from. He kept fiddling at it for quiet some time. It felt like it grew bigger for every minute that passed.

Slowly the ever present cold and tight feeling from it increased, and with a low defeated moan Ichigo knew what was to come. His mouth drew back in some sort of twisted snarl of pain and misery. Maybe he was going to let it? Let himself be consumed by utter rage and the want to kill for blood. To chase unyielding agony away until it gripped him so hard that everything was lost and he became truly hollow. Let the monster destroy his will and leave nothing but an empty shell.

Ichigo twisted and turned, his chest aching painfully. No. He didn't want to become a wandering corpse. Never ever, no matter how grim he became. The dream-like panic moved like a foaming wave over him again, spraying and hacking its way into his soul.

Anger flared through the boy for a split second. His lungs tugged at the hole in his chest like it was a fanged mouth trying to close. Ichigo gasped.

Auburn eyes slid shut for a few seconds and Ichigo tried to take deep breaths in a useless attempt to still the pressing urges. Horrid visions of drawing life from others flashed in front of his mind.

Quickly his eyes shot open as they stung horribly, his body twitching and his throat cramping. His lips flushed and he tried not to choke as the bone mask crawled its way out of mouth and his eyes like he was spewing up white, oozing puss. The skull mask grinned, despite Ichigo feeling nothing of what a smile stood for. He lowered his head to the ground again, his face sad beneath the bone mask.

As he shifted his weight on his hips, he couldn't help but to feel a little bit better that the mask had come. It hid his scarred, beaten, and downright repulsive face.

His eyes that rolled in darkly rimmed sockets dilated in a pathetic attempt to shake the draining of colours away. Claws closed around the zipper that held his uniform together and Ichigo pulled it up, closing the high collar of it over the black torture-choker that hung tight over his neck. As if closing the hole itself when the zipper moved over it.

Ichigo turned to lay the side and stare blankly across the floor, wishing it was that simple.

Sighing, Ichigo slipped down from the bed and the skinny teen stepped forward. Walking up to the door he hoped was open. To his dismay nothing happened, the automatic door opening seem not to respond.

What time was it? He had no clue. Nor did he have any way of knowing. Sluggishly he stepped into the bathroom and peered at the walls. No clock. No way to tell the time. Ichigo's hand clenched at his side as he stalked out of the room, sitting down on the chair in a frustrated manner. He wasn't going to be able to stay sane for much, longer he knew. He needed to eat. Now.

Unthinkingly Ichigo's fist slammed into the table and he suppressed a scream, a low agonised wail escaping him instead. Standing up abruptly, the chair clattering to the floor behind him, Ichigo sharply turned on the spot, glaring at the white door.

He marched up close and, with a sharp intake of air, he slammed his fist into it. To his dismay, but not entirely unexpectedly, it only took the hit as if it had been a leaf landing in a pond. A deep growl rumbled in the teen's throat.

An animalistic shout escaped Ichigo as he turned around, glaring on the floor. He walked forward, his black and white boots slamming into the floor as he stomped back and forth. His hand fisted at his side, opening and closing repeatedly.

The white door of Kidō didn't seem to want to open, no matter how long Ichigo paced around and around. No matter how much he slammed his fist against it, it did it even buckle. He had tried in all his fury to fire a bala at it, but the black energy blast had only swirled away as if nothing had even hit the door.

Why had he been locked up? Because he had disobeyed orders? What a load of crap! Ichigo growled again. His anger and frustration was wearing him thin, making him tired, and it was so hard to stop it from changing into the misery he dreaded.

Ichigo lay down on the floor in another desperate to calm down, his masked face blank as his mouth chewed on air, all colour lost in his eyes and the world now black and white. He sucked in the air, as if swallowing it would fill the place where his heart had once been.

Ages passed. At least it felt like it as Ichigo writhed on the floor, twisting and turning. He was making horrid little sounds of agony. He tried to silence himself, but couldn't.

He felt like he was dying as he sat leaning against the door now, his clawed fingers scrapping against the white rippling door. Open, please open. _Please…_

As if his prayers had been answered, the white slid away, Ichigo falling out of his room halfway. His head painfully hit the floor before he had the change to move and stop the fall. But it wasn't long until he was up and running, quickly slamming the door open to the dinning hall, only to end up standing impatiently in a cue.

The boy growled, his face turning hard as he tried to contain his mood. He did his best to calm his heavy breath and screaming chest. His face was contorted with sadness behind his mask as he waited, impatiently pushing at the arrancar in front of him.

That man turned around to glare at him, but the menacing expression didn't stay firm in his face, and the arrancar quickly turned away, not having the luxury to hide his crying face from the world like Ichigo did. The male was an arrancar after all, thus there were only bits and pieces left of his own mask.

After Ichigo had kept on pushing at the arrancar in front of him, and been pushed at himself he finally took a bowl. He fiddled with it desperately in his hand and tried not to drop it as he could see some had already done, many shards from broken china bowls covering the floor.

Repulsing scents filled his nose as Ichigo grabbed at the large scoop after placing his china on the edge of the warm steel trays that the nutrients lay in. He wished he could have taken two bowls with him as he searched for a table, seeing many had taken more than two, some even four. But he was restricted to one hand so one bowl had to do and he sat down on the far edge of a long table, all single-tables taken. At least the grumpy looking arrancar to the left of him was four chairs away.

Quickly, Ichigo ate his grey food, the small spoon a little hard to hold with his long claws, but he didn't mind - as long as he could hold it and shove it past his mask's sharp teeth, it was fine.

As the boy ate he tried to tune out the loud murmuring that seemed to act as tinnitus in his ears, but suddenly, when Ichigo had almost finished his first bowl and was about to go and get another one, a loud clatter and bang was heard as someone threw a chair across the room. Ichigo wasn't surprised when a certain tall, thin, and black silky haired man stomped up on one of the tables.

"I'm sick of this damn… food!" Nnoitra bellowed, his shrill voice echoing in the large dome like room. He sneered and slammed his half empty bowl into the ground, making Ichigo's eyebrows twitch at the sharp sound, even if he was sitting rather far away.

"I'm not going to sit here and play well behaved pet any longer! We are monsters!" Nnoitra bellowed. "We thirst to quench our ever growing agony of the unspeakable we went thought to eat out own heart out! It made something else move through us, a demon in our empty form, one that strives for nothing but to kill the anguish that cut so deep in our soul it will never stop!" There was a deep breath from Nnoitra and the murmur in the room increased, agreeing.

"We need to be free, to move as we please and stop it! To be able to feast on those before us!" Another wave of agreeing sounds emerged.

"But of course, we are not allowed any of that, are we!" A howl erupted within the room.

"So I say: why don't we take the blood we strive for! The life we deserve! Did you all know that the very man that makes us eat this goo has tons of delicious blood stored away!"

There was a spike in the murmur, confused and angry shouts being heard as many seemed to not have known.

"That's right!" Nnoitra bellow, a smile playing at his lips as his speech took him the way he wanted it to. "I've seen it! It's supposed to be of help for that… _man_-," Nnoitra pointed a large accusing finger at bright pink hair, "-when he patches us up! But does he! NO!"

Nnoitra was immediately answered by the pink scientist, obviously offended. But he seemed to be ignored by the 5th Espada as he only gave him a loathing look and ignored him.

"So why, why don't we take what we need, like we used to do! Claim what is ours without remorse? I say we take it, tonight! And feast upon it in the free, endless desert where we belong!" Nnoitra screamed again, glee once more spreading over his face as he was answered with almost everyone standing up and screaming, wildly throwing their own bowls into the air.

Ichigo himself kept his mouth shut through out it all. He didn't storm to his feet or screamed in joy. He had nothing against rebelling at all, but he had just been rebelling right in front of Aizen's eyes, hadn't he? One more rebellious act and he might be thrown out. He did not want that.

Slowly the screams died down, but the murmur that remained seemed more happy and thrilled, and Nnoitra seemed to walk around and ask who was going to come and join his gang of blood stealers. But the sudden tap on Ichigo's shoulder wasn't from the 5th Espada. Turning around he frowned as he was face to face with the scientist Espada. What did he want?

"Can you come with me please?"

"Huh? Why?" He lifted an eyebrow.

"Your arm." The statement immediately made the boy grab at his limb.

"What about it?" he spat.

"Something happened to it, no…? And aren't I this place's scientists and doctor, hm?"

Ichigo shrugged, uncertainly rising to his feet and following the Espada nonetheless. Maybe the man could help. He seemed to have an eye for noticing injuries. Or maybe it was an obsession? Ichigo shuddered uncomfortably at the thought.

After telling the Espada of the nature of the scar and immobility of his arm, a needle was slowly and carefully pushed inside his dead limb, Ichigo biting his lip as he felt nothing from the tearing of skin. What made him draw back however was what he saw the needle fill with when the Espada moved the needle's handle upwards.

Ichigo didn't know what he had expected it to fill with, but it hadn't been the black grease that unwillingly made its way into the round tube of the syringe.

"W…what is that…?" He couldn't help but to wheeze, the question filling his being.

The scientist Espada said nothing to answer the question at first, watching the needle's content, moving it back and forth, the thick substance moving about sluggishly inside. Ichigo shuddered at the sight. What in the world was his arm was filled with it? What the hell was that the shinigami's sword that had cut his body made of?

"I honestly don't know…" Szayel answered a few seconds later, his hand moving over his mouth to grab at his chin as if thinking deeply before he left the side of the young boy who cradling his arm. Ichigo placed it back in the white sling and adjusted it to hang more comfortable over his shoulder.

Sliding down the seat he headed over to where the man was working to look over the arrancar's shoulder. He earned a sharp glare.

"Peeking over my shoulder will not make it go any faster." Szayel said; his voice clearly annoyed. "You can go back to your quarters; the test results won't be ready until tomorrow."

Szayel turned back to the needle, putting some of its content in a low rimmed glass cup. The grease mostly held the nutrients the boy had eaten before, but why was it black…?

It was a shinigami that had cut the boy… How could a shinigami posses such powerful venom? He had never encountered anything like it. But then again, most of the shinigami he had dissected and studied had only been the bodies of dead men where the soul body had been stopped from dissolving and not the sword that were parts of the mens' and womens' souls. Only the handles had been left for him to study, and that didn't give him much.

Eventually he couldn't stand having the boy hanging over his shoulder and literally pulled him out of the room. Frustrated once more, Ichigo stomped off, heading for his quarters. However, he never managed to get there before he was met with a wall of arrancar heading his way. Ichigo stopped, wondering what was going on. He tried to move aside, to let the men pass, but as he did a sudden hand gripped firmly at his clothes, dragging him along.

Ichigo tried to wrench free, but the Espada held him firm. "Let go!" he protested, fearing another fight session.

"Oh no! You're coming with us!" Grimmjow shouted, his voice oddly happy and not threatening like Ichigo had suspected.

Yielding to the tug and following, the Espada eventually let go of the boy, who noticed some of the men in the front, including Nnoitra, Grimmjow, and some others, even Ulquiorra, were carrying large, carefully concealed buckets of some sort. Ichigo didn't have to guess to know what they contained. The look everyone gave them revealed it easily. Blood.

A spark of anticipation bubbled to life in his chest, a pleasant urge to put his veins ablaze he couldn't deny, no matter how much he wanted. Ichigo stared at the slim steel in much the same way as the others were.

"Where are we going?" Ichigo asked, as he noticed the front of the group opening a large heavy gate-like door that didn't let out blinding desert light as it opened, meaning they where heading out into the dark eerier desert, the endless parts that were untouched by Azien's hand.

"Somewhere Aizen can't see," smiled Grimmjow as the cool calm wind met with his pale skin.

A relieved mumble could be heard over the group, as if a heavy veil had been removed from everyone after getting away from the castle and its blazing sun. It was strange to hear. The friendly mumble was something Ichigo didn't think was possible between them. Not with the instinctual urge to get away or kill each other.

They walked far through the desert that wanted nothing more than to pull them down into the dark forest beneath them. However, they seem to walk on some sort of path that didn't pull so hard. Ichigo wondered how they knew where they were, as for him it was just sand and more sand, no trail whatsoever anywhere.

He also wanted to ask where they were going again, but he knew he wouldn't get a much of a better answer than he did before, for how were they going to be able to pinpoint a location in an endless desert that looked exactly the same everywhere?

But eventually, when the gigantic palace in the distance was half its size, Ichigo could see something coming up in the horizon, something spiky and unformed. His curiosity increased along with the pace of everyone's steps. As the object got closer and closer, he could make out metallic gleams. Once close he stopped before it, looking at the hideous thing that he figured was supposed to be a piece of art.

Masks, hundreds of masks, were piled up in a huge heap that was all entwined together with swords. Ichigo easily noticed that they where all trophies of hollow masks and shinigami soul-cutter handles alike, where the steel from the sword had been replaced with parts of bone. He tried to count the decorative handles, but after he had gotten above twenty he lost interest, especially when he smelled the stench of a much cherished red liquid.

Ichigo turned around and noticed that everyone else was already gathered around the containers, seeming to have trouble standing still or staying composed. Some of the Fracción were walking around strangely, as if they were doing their best to force themselves to follow some order, but where having too much trouble doing so. They were most probably in line to get blood last, their superiors always first.

The orange haired teen stayed back, unsure of what to do, acting not much different from the Fracción. But oh, how he wanted to rush forward and claim all the blood for himself, to eagerly drink it all. But he didn't dare. He held himself firm at the spot, not matter how much the dark, pressing urges dragged, pulled, and screamed at him.

But a sudden yank at his clothes, which he unthinkingly hissed at, brought him quickly forward. He was surprised when everyone cleared a way. He wasn't too surprised to find it was Grimmjow that dragged him up toward the monument.

"Everyone!" he roared. "This is Ichigo!" The man tugged at Ichigo's clothes, who was now confused and unsure of what was going to occur. He did, however, quickly straighten, as he knew everyone was looking at him. "He is now going to become one of us, a man of Las Noches!"

Everyone that was listening screamed and an enormous howl erupted as everyone emitted their hollow scream for the lonely moon to hear. A shove in the back quickly made Ichigo inhale sharply to join the mad howling. When he did, the roars got worse, everyone's arms rising in the air.

"It's a bit late brat, but better late than never!" Grimmjow suddenly shouted over the loud grunting, and blood was forced down Ichigo's throat, running down his cheeks and mouth when he didn't have time to swallow. His body shock, the taste once more overwhelming, and he wanted to collapse to the sand, but the arms of the others kept him standing.

Blood rushed through his veins; reviving dead tissue and spreading its warmth through ice cold skin. The new, fresh blood splattered out over the boy's mask, forming the red war stripes over it. Ichigo screamed, his senses rushing wild, his body twitching as if he was being electrocuted. He groaned, the so-very-good feeling everywhere.

Everyone around him joined in on the blood feasting and screamed in the same joy as he did. Ichigo gurgled deeply, feeling the warm blood bubble in his throat along with the rush in his bursting veins. The feelings were extreme, invigorating in every part of his tattered soul and he simply could not get enough.

Everybody shouted and hollered; rough screams that were nothing but yells of high pleasure and glee in wild instinctual thrashing rang though the eerier ever-present night.

They all leaped around their little piece of art, everyone high on the blood they had taken with them. Screaming, roaring, shouting and howling, every one of them dancing along their own pulse of fresh blood ringing in their ears. They were nothing more than a heap of dancing, twisting bodies of beasts, half drowned in blood and crimson stained sand.

The repulsive stench of one another had been washed away, the raw sugar sweet smell of the red liquid filling the air instead. Ichigo couldn't help but to be pulled along, jumping and trashing around wildly in the white sand, bumping against the sweaty bodies of the others.

All of them were half psychotic as they clawed at each others skin, tearing warm skin open to lick the red away. They clawed at Ichigo's skin as well, tearing it open in fine slashes over his back. But it didn't hurt; it only sent shivers down his spine in morbid pleasure and caused his pupils to dilate even more as his body started to heal rapidly, faster for each new hand that tore his hide.

Ichigo fell to the ground, his breath hard and his mind lost in strange satisfaction. He felt people fall over him, clumsy blood-filled bodies. Because that's what everyone was now, nothing more than filled flesh-bags of blood.

Convulsing bodies, twitching fingers and legs running on the same spot, and hysterically screaming voices were all over the place, everyone's head being thrown up and down frantically.

Ichigo was yanked back and forth; people kicked him in the stomach as everything trashed about, and he saw wide grins flash by and gave off a toothy grin himself behind the mask as he was shoved to the left, almost tripping as sand blew up around him. Ichigo was gyrating in a happy chaos, still spinning out of control. He ran into someone on one side, who shoved him back the other way.

Ichigo toppled over and fell, limbs snaking in the sand. Small rocks stuck to his blood smeared face, getting in between the fangs of his grinning mask.

His arm twitched, fingers cramping uncontrollably as he once more was pulled up from the ground where someone forcefully heaved even more blood down his throat, and then grabbed him by the torso, apparently dancing with him in his or her arms. But Ichigo didn't really get it, his surrounding nothing more than a happy void of blood red and screams.

Soon he was dropped, his thrashing limbs and swaying unresponsive arm, the sling long since torn, bumping into everything and anyone again. It wasn't long until he saw a flash of blue, presuming it was Grimmjow, but little thought about it was made. Everything was to no concern of his as long as he had blood in his veins.

Soon the Espada head-butted him, making his already dizzy mind spin wildly, but he didn't cry out in pain, he only laughed and screeched, head-butting the arrancar back with such brute force it sent the man falling to the ground.

It wasn't long until fists were sent at each others faces, the 6th Espada's face turning puffy and swollen compared to Ichigo bone covered one. But none cared; it was just a battle of beasts fighting for nothing but the sake of the thrill. The thrill and screams was all that mattered.

A knee connected with the orange haired boy's stomach, sending his body's content spraying over the other face, which laughed hysterically and claimed the blood for his own, licking it greedily off his arms and face.

Ichigo gurgled, grabbing at his torso and walking off in a random direction, small bursts of pain still registering in his hyped mind. However, it all kept going for hours and whenever they felt tired or the rush leaving in a spray of thrown up blood, it was quickly refilled. Less blood was needed to satisfy the monster for every new intake of it, the red that was a bright shimmering gold from heaven in every monsters eye.

But eventually the pride of the dancing dead slowed down, every body moving sluggish and slow. The dance still kept going, wolf-like howls now aimed towards the lonely moon that was suspended in the dark above. It was if everyone was caught in a void, a void that was thicker than air and made them all move as if they were played in slow-motion.

Arms and shoulders rolled and the thrashing stopped, a slow dance twirling through the sand, and as time passed bodies dropped to the ground. It wasn't long until Ichigo did the same, his form curling up comfortably in the white sand that to him was puffy clouds before he fell into the best sleep he had ever had.

Even if it didn't last long.

End of Chapter


	28. Spore

**Chapter 28: Spore**

There was a dream, or something vividly close to it. At least, there had been. However, it was quickly slipping out of memory as auburn eyes opened, a moving shadow waking Ichigo up.

The teen leered out of the slits of his eyes, a yawn forcing his jaw open. However a sharp, sudden pain in the side made the still groggy boy jolt awake with a startled yelp.

It quickly turned into an angry growl and Ichigo glared to see no other than a member of the Execution Squad. Getting up to kick back at the man, Ichigo's snarl quickly morphed into a scream of shock as excruciating pain ignited around his throat. The torture collar had been turned on.

His neck stiffened, unable to move as the hollows within the collar sprang to life, eating anything they could reach as fast as they could. Quickly it scorched through every nerve, making the boy fall back onto the sand as everything was put on fire with hot, burning pain. Twisting and turning in the sands was no longer an act of joy - quiet the contrary.

His scream seemed never-ending, even when his mouth filled with white froth that ran down the sides of his cheeks. He gasped loudly, air whooshing into him though his chest and tried to stabilize himself, to stop his fingers and entire body from cramping. But he couldn't, the spirit energy within him being drained too fast.

Suddenly a rough hand grabbed his ankle and the boy was pulled through the sands. Ichigo tried to kick himself free, but the torture collar had no mercy, draining all energy out of him. His face twisted in pain, tears of blood pushing out of his eyes and his head bumped painfully into the sand as he was dragged onward. Where was he being taken?

To Aizen? Back to the man that thought he was a God himself? Ichigo didn't know, but with a throaty moan his agonised body was released.

Words were spoken, but Ichigo couldn't make it out over the distinct ringing in his ears or the gurgling sound of his cramping throat. However, as suddenly as the pain had started it stopped. Abruptly Ichigo's convulsing body went limp on the ground, small twitches racking it from time to time.

Squinting up through sweaty hair Ichigo wondered what he had done to deserve such a stubborn grudge as the squad seemed to have for him. His upper body was lifted from the sand, two pair of strong arms holding both of his.

A lanky-looking figure kneed in front of Ichigo and, to his worsened fear, pulled his upper uniform open by the zipper, fully exposing his chest. Ichigo tried to wrench himself free when some sort of elastic ruler was placed upon it. He tried to stutter out something about letting him go, but the words did not want to form in his foam-filled mouth. 

"15 centimetre!" The figure's sharp voice barked, the numbers being the diameter of the hole in his chest.

Ichigo didn't like it. What was going on? Was the execution squad living up their name now? Where they going to execute him?

As soon as the thought struck him, Ichigo wrenched free from the arms holding him, fear strengthening him. Quickly he spun around, his ever so skinny legs leaping into the air, jumping and sprinting away. But as soon as he was airborne an angry shout was heard. The collar around his neck ignited once more and Ichigo plummeted back into the ground.

He didn't get the change to get up as he was already forced to sit on his knees and saw something that didn't seem to predict much good. Long, white and massive three branches from the trees that grew in the depths of the Menos Forest were sticking out from the sand. They were sleek and smooth, the odd crystal material the branches were made of glimmering in the moonlight. But the beautiful glitter did not bring any comfort to Ichigo, especially not when several men were standing around one, as if examining it.

A yell about something that probably answered the shout about his chest from before was heard. Ichigo could feel the grip on his arm tightened and he was pulled towards the branch.

"Hey…" Ichigo slurred out. "What are you doin'…?" As he was dragged nearer and nearer he put two and two together. They needed to know how big Ichigo's hole was to see if the branch could fit? _What the hell were they planning to do?_

"Oh no, no, no you _don't_!" Ichigo dug is legs into the ground, pulled with his shoulders to get loose and screamed. But the men that held him kept their hold. Ichigo twisted like a worm in their grip to get away, tried to wriggle his way out.

"Let me go!" Ichigo screamed, his eyes widening as he realised they were _still_ making their way toward the now horrifying tree. Panicking, Ichigo flared with his spirit-energy.

That proved to be a mistake because as soon as his blue tinted energy burst out of him to effectively knock the two masked men holding him away, the cursed collar around his neck was once more activated. With a fresh scream and bewildered eyes Ichigo once again fought against harsh pain.

Unable to do anything else than wriggle with a scream caught in his throat, Ichigo's body was lifted with little care. It wasn't long until the destination was reach, Ichigo vaguely seeing the silhouette of the towering branch as if it was guillotine ready to fall.

Being carried up higher, his body still twitching from infuriating pain, Ichigo felt the tree impale him, right through his chest. No more screams left the boy, wide eyes staring empty into white sand. Fingers twitched and toes cramped. Ichigo couldn't really comprehend what had really happened before he lost consciousness.

Coming to sometime later, not knowing how or when, Ichigo lashed out at anything he could reach without seeing and tried to get away, but gravity had a firm grip on him, thus he couldn't do much in his position. He jerked his head back and forth, trying to comprehend what had and was happening.

His mouth was wide open and teeth barred as he tried to suck in air, tried to breathe. But it was so hard, the little space left in his lungs from where the massive branch impaled him not doing a good job of giving his body oxygen.

Ichigo coughed and wheezed. He tried to lift his legs, his arm and head, but it was all too hard. Moaning, his head hung back and his eyes didn't want to stay open. His body hurt terribly, even if there was no torn skin or bleeding veins. His lungs were cramped, feeling like they wanted to explode. For the first time ever Ichigo wished the hole in his ribcage was larger, large enough for his body to slide down and hit the sand. But he was stuck in the middle and could hardly move at all.

What kind of sick way was this to torture someone? Why the crude method? Impaled through the chest and left to rot? Was he to hang there until he went mad with hunger, until he was a shell doomed to wither away in silent desert winds?

What of the others? They were not around; no one was here to accompany him in his morbid crucifixion. Was he all alone, lost to a bitter cause?

The thought slipped through his mind, spiralling down a current of fuming anger. Why was he punished? He had done nothing wrong! Hell, he had been dragged to the place by force! It was not his fault!

Where were the others! Why did no screams of pain from tortured souls fill his ears? Was he the only one? Was he once more the weak link? The one to blame? Anger flared.

Why was he punished without any reason! Did the Espada blame the idea on him? Did they put Ichigo as the guilty so the Espada did not have to suffer? Anger roared.

Ichigo's body twitched and cramped as hate coiled in every nerve. Spirit energy gushed out of his pores, blasting and zapping the hated world around him. It yanked and bit at the sand below him, snarled and hissed at the burning sun it could not reach. Ichigo screamed.

However as his lungs worked to push the roar out of the boy and air back in, his chest rose, his ribcage extending in size as Ichigo drew for breath. When he did, he slipped further down the pillar.

The scream of rage was cut off short, no more air able to fill Ichigo's lungs. Lashing out, the boy twisted and turned like a stranded fish. With a jolt the anger turned into fear. Fear meshed into panic.

Can't breath, can't breath! C_an'tbreath!_

His thoughts became a jumble as he fought for air and tried to get a grip on the branch with his working arm. But it only twitched vigorously at his side until the gurgling sounds in his throat died away. Quickly Ichigo was taken over by darkness as he fainted.

The darkness was thick and impenetrable even when Ichigo once again came to. His mind was groggy and slow. He felt like he was inside a small coffin that was filled with water from his black sea of despair that always drowned him.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Ichigo held back a wail when it felt like the coffin rocked to the side as a massive wave of water slammed into it and it toppled over. With a harsh tug and a spasm, air filled his lungs. Instantly Ichigo's eyes wrenched open, the imaginary world of water disappearing and reality taking its place.

The feeling in his limbs returned and he felt sand scrape against skin. Coughing hard and inhaling deep breaths, Ichigo coiled like a maggot. He tried to get up from the ground; to crawl away from what he knew was the Execution squad that had taken him down. It couldn't be anyone else. Struggling, Ichigo tried to get to his feet.

His legs slid in under his body and with a shaky groan Ichigo rose to his feet. He wobbled uncontrollably and attempted to take a shaky step forward. His movement was erratic, sluggish and he had no chance to come to his senses before his arms were grabbed. Crude fingers dug into his biceps and pulled him along. Gurgling, Ichigo tried to pull free. He would not be taken again! With another violent twitch Ichigo jerked and lashed out, the anger he had felt before resurfacing. It bubbled into his body, fuelling it and giving it strength.

Clawing out, his fingers cut through flesh. Before his claws were out of the person's body, he pushed away and leaped in the momentum he got to get away. In his rush he felt his hand twitch and a Bala was fired from his hand, ripping through air and hitting one of two arrancar that had come to assist with holding Ichigo down square in the head, obliterating it. The second one he pushed past with an elbow to his gut and leaped over the dead, headless body. 

Ichigo saw his chance and ran for it, since he knew better than to stay and fight. Running away meant surviving and surviving was the only thing that mattered. His legs moved erratically and he fell many times, fear of getting taken again growing inside and stopping him from slowing down.

He ran aimlessly, something he had done many times before, but even so it did make him feel a bit uneasy because it was hard to have any sense of direction. A sense of time was out of the question with the constant moon as well. He was so tired too and eventually he had to stop, when he decided it was safe enough. He didn't seem to be followed. Ichigo collapsed to the sand. He was tired, so very tired. But he didn't rest for long, feeling uneasy still that Aizen's personal killing squad might be looking for him. Getting up again, Ichigo kept going.

Dragging himself thought the sand Hueco Mundo, Ichigo squinted through a sand storm, cursing as it whirled all around. The sand was everywhere, between his teeth, in his hair, in his pants and lungs.

Ichigo fell again, the sand that tried to swallowing him beginning to get harder and harder to walk through when the sandstorm got the better of him. Cursing, Ichigo crawled up to what seemed to be a large branch from the crystal trees and tried to hide behind it. Holding his clawed and in front of his mouth and breathing through the gap between his fingers, he waited to for the sandstorm to die down.

It seems to last for at least twenty minutes and Ichigo wondered if he would be able to find his way back again at all once it was over. The traces in the sand after his steps would be gone, but he knew he had gone in a straight line. Well, he hoped he had at least. So maybe he could go back if he needed to. When it finally was over, Ichigo carefully got up and peer out from behind the tree. The sand dunes had changed, the strong wind forming it after its desires.

What made him surprised however that was there now was an odd smell in the air and Ichigo couldn't decide if it was a pleasant or bad one. It must have been carried with the wind. Whatever it was, it filled his nostrils, moved into his lungs and consumed his being. Much like a soul would when he was near. Instantly something inside flared and the urge to hunt the origin of the smell down was unstoppable. He started sprinting through the deep sand again.

His tried body cramped and he tried to regain his breath before he started running again. It must have been a few hours, at least, since he started searching; and he still hadn't found it, and the realization made him slightly desperate. He _had _to find what it was, no matter how exhausted he became, even when something screamed in the back of his mind that it couldn't be a lonely soul because they didn't exist here. At least not the ones that weren't broken and hollow like him. And they did not smell like this.

What was that strange smell?, Ichigo wondered when he almost fell again and moved clumsily through the sand, trying to find the origin of the scent. But after heaving himself up over what felt like the hundredth sand dune he saw something. A faint silhouette among all the white, something hunched, lying down. Something dead.

Brown eyes narrowed suspiciously as he gazed over the desert, but nonetheless he started walking down the dune he was upon, getting closer by the minute. The sand seemed to get thicker, more compact when he was almost next to what he realised was a body. A humanoid looking body.

Slowing down Ichigo stopped a few meters away from it. It was an arrancar. Had to be. But that was not what was troubling him enough to resist the massive urge to run up to the corpse and sink his teeth into it. It was what seemed to be all over the corpse.

Some sort of… Ichigo couldn't put his finger on it, but it looked as if something had grown all over the former man or woman. The skin looked rotten and it was covered in tight veins or roots of some sort. Parts of it seemed to leave the body and root itself into the sand, as if keeping the body put. Was it preventing it from dissolving…?

Ever so slowly Ichigo was lured closer, squatting down next to it. He had to cover his mouth with his hand to block out the smell. There was no way in hell he was going fall for his instincts and quench his agonised hole by eating this. But he eventually had to look away and close his eyes, taking deep breaths through the slits between his fingers to steady himself. He was in control. Not the raging monster. He was in _control_…

His hand moved away from his jaw, ever so slowly yielding to the urge to touch. If was as if the corpse, or maybe the growth all over it, was a magnetic field and he was a metal object that had no choice but to get sucked in. He touched it.

Slowly, with unsteady breaths, his claws carefully moved over the odd, rotten skin and travelled along the strange vein-like things. Approaching the neck of the once humanoid being, the boy noticed the skin seemed to have swelled there, as if the glands had grown and contorted. The skin seemed thin and fragile. Little by little Ichigo moved his finger over it, his claw pushing unintentionally hard at it.

Without any warning the boil opened up and instantly Ichigo drew back. But even so he was too late to not have breathed the _spore_ that seemed to come out of it. It wasn't little either. The yellow dust seemed to cling to his entire face, in his hair and throat. Even inside his open lungs.

Horrified, Ichigo crawled backwards on the sand the best he could, away from the body. His eyes were wide, his face panic-stricken. He twisted around, quickly getting up on his feet and running off, more than afraid to be near the infected body. He did his best to smear the yellow spores away, but it seemed determined to stick to his face.

He ran far, not daring to stop even when he couldn't breathe, his throat feeling like it was going to clog and suffocate him. Froth moved up and he wiped it away quickly, his eyes still wide with terror.

Dizziness overcame him and he felt hot, his skin becoming damp with sweat. The choking feeling didn't let him go as Ichigo tried to escape the fear that had gripped him. Ichigo did his best to get the yellow smeary substance and foam off his hand by moving it against his pants. When considering it clean enough he pushed his hand inside in chest, trying to scrape the spore that he knew was there away.

But in all his frustration and panic, it only hurt. It hurt enough for him to scream and pull his hand out with a bit of difficultly, as it got stuck at the rim of his hole. He didn't try to push his hand inside again.

He started coughing, froth once more coating the sides of his mouth. He inhaled sharply, desperately trying to slow his breath, trying to force the respiratory distress away. Closing his eyes, his hand formed into a first as he sat down in the sand. The harsh coughing didn't seem to want to stop, even if it did slow down.

Ichigo tried to breathe through his nose and wipe his eyes clean from the blood that had suddenly started to form pour out of them. He had no water to clear his eyes with, so being the only liquid he had in his body, blood had to do. His eyes stung, and Ichigo furiously blinked. If he had sand in them it was too hard to get out with his clawed fingers, even if he couldn't feel any grains in any of them, and the blood didn't do a good job of washing it out either. It was too thick and clung to his eyelashes.

His fingering only seemed to make the pain in his eyes worse, as if he had added more dirt. Stopping, Ichigo settled with closing them, hoping the blood still would wash whatever it was away if he waited long enough. But even as he waited the pain and coughing didn't seem to fully disappear, even it had already ebbed away dramatically after he had sat down. The boy did his best to squint through bloody eyes.

What was he going to do? This couldn't be something good he had inhaled. The instant reaction it had caused had been horrible. Hell, he still couldn't breathe or see properly from it.

_Damn it_, he was at a loss on what to do.

_'Che,'_ Shirosaki suddenly scoffed in his head, before his bright voice escalated into a very annoyed scream. _'Idiot!'_

"Hollow!" Ichigo burst out; he had almost forgotten the demon inside still existed. He had been quiet for so long.

'_What the hell's wrong with you, ya dumb fuck!'_ Ichigo's eyebrows twitched at the harsh yell. _'Here I go trying to get out of the damn rain, and look what you do! Run into some fuckin' trap!'_

"Wha-"

'_Don't you go 'what the fuck are you talking about?' on me! You know what!'_ The hollow told Ichigo off. _'That wasn't just some stupid flower's spore that you got sprayed in the face! It's something far more evil!'_

"_What the fuck are you talking about?"_ Ichigo still echoed, fear swelling large after hearing the hollow's cryptic message. _"It's inside?"_

'_Well, there's something here! And I sure haven't seen it before!' _The small hint of desperation was well hidden.

"Shitshitshitshit..." Ichigo quickly cursed, as his mind reeled as visions of a dying city flashed in front of his eyes and his imagination fuelled his fear. "What the Hell are we supposed to do! We have to get it out!" Ichigo slurred, pulling at his hair and his eyes widened.

'_Think! It's not like you can get it out yourself!'_

"W-we have to go back to Las Notches," Ichigo said more to himself than the hollow.

He didn't _really _want to go back, but he realised it was the best thing to do. He needed help with this. He had no idea what had gotten into him, because he found it pretty obvious that he had been infected by something e_vil._

How stupid had he been? Falling into such an obvious a trap. He had gone into the nest of that odd thing just like any fly does with a spider's web. Gritting his teeth he cursed his foolishness that never seemed to do him any good _ever_.

Slowly, Ichigo started to stumble toward the way he came from, backtracking his steps and hoping he would find his way back before his condition grew worse. It couldn't that bad, he tried to reassure himself. It was just a cough and watering eyes. But the knowledge that his hollow had seen it too, inside his very soul, still clogged the empty space of his chest and made it even harder to breath.

His legs heaved themselves over the sand as Ichigo ran as fast as he dared to find the massive white palace. He did, however have to come to a full stop every so often because of another coughing fit, or because of his eyes blurred up so much he couldn't see where he was going and he couldn't help but to scratch at them with the back of his hand, red smearing all over it.

Finally, after what felt like long, tedious hours, he saw a white speck far off in the desert. His breath wheezed as he glared through his sweaty hair. Taking a deep breath and trying not to choke on it, Ichigo sped up, getting closer with every second. Eventually he was at the massive front doors, opening them with a bit of difficulty as they were more than a little heavy.

Stumbling inside Ichigo slammed into hot, dry air like it was a wall. It made his head spin, the sudden change from cool air to stifling desert heat. He was forced to stop, his face crumbling together as his entire body did its best to breath. Silently Ichigo wondered why he had to breath so badly now and not when he was impaled with by a massive spear-like branch. Maybe fear was the only thing that actually did cramp his throat and stopped him from breathing.

He was till coughing, even if it was much lighter now and longer between the fits, Ichigo tried to keep it that way he kept going through the long halls. After taking a couple of rights and lefts, he finally found himself at the hospital wing.

He was met with a sight that he hadn't expected. The room was cramped with people, who all moaned or uttered sounds of pain Ichigo had heard even before he had set foot within it. Everyone was seated on the beds or on the floor, holding over the place where an arm was supposed to have been or things alike. The smell of puss and other disgusting odours were strong in the room and Ichigo held back the urge to gag.

What the hell was this…? Ichigo stared at everyone as he stepped further inside, the door closing behind him and Ichigo pushed himself against the wall at its side. His clawed hand covered his mouth as the watched the people, shocked. Had everyone been tortured for their deception? His blurry gaze travelled over the many arrancar in the room and to the far left he recognized one of them. That was Grimmjow wasn't it?

Slowly Ichigo left the walls, heading for the Espada through the maze of people sitting on most of the open spaces in the room. To his dismay he saw one arrancar, or maybe it was a fracción, simply sitting on the ground, mouthing opening and closing as he stared emptily at his scorched hands, no skin remaining on them whatsoever. No wonder the room smelled like it was filled with bile.

Ichigo stopped when he came into hearing range of the loudly barking man, who seemed to have lost both of his arms as they lay in his lap, some sort of disgusting grease coming out of the ends and his shoulders. The Espada did not, seem to be in too much pain, or the 6tha was doing his best at not letting it show, probably focusing on whining very loudly instead.

"Fucking assholes!" Grimmjow burst out, sounding like he had said it quiet a few times already. Then he wrenched his head to the left fast enough for Ichigo to think Grimmjow was going to get a whiplash in order to stare angrily at someone. "You should have watched my back, Ulquiorra!"

"Were you not the one bragging about taking them all on your own?" came the simple answer from Ulquiorra who was sitting with his eyes closed, the eyelids sinking inwards as if there was nothing behind them.

Deciding against approaching the two bickering males, Ichigo turned around; trying to spot the flaming pink hair he knew would be in here somewhere. He spotted the Espada, standing dressed in green scrubs and yellow, tight gloves. The hair was put away in a thin pale green hat of sorts, blocking its bright colour.

"Um, err… excuse me?" Ichigo mumbled after walking over, not really sure if his matters were so bad now when he watched the Espada stitch a leg back onto a much agonised looking woman. Obviously busy and very stressed, the scientist let out a frustrated sigh as he turned around.

"If you need a limb re-attached get in line, if not, get out!" Szayel spit, obviously agitated.

Being a bit taken aback by the snappy response, the orange haired teen took an uncertain step backward, almost bumping into a Fracción running past with a stretcher.

"Um, we don't. But we inhaled something in the desert." Ichigo didn't exactly know what to say, uncertain if this was the right time to tell - if he should tell at all. It was awfully busy in here already; his condition was just troubled breathing and irritated eyes. Except for it being in his inner-world too, of course. "Some yellow growth…"

The Espada turned around, looking at the boy like he wanted to throw him out, his pink eyebrows twitching together as if silently telling him to shut up.

"W-we bumped into a body that lay in the sand. It had some strange yellow… stuff all over on its skin!" Ichigo babbled out, his worry getting the better of him as he smeared away another wave of fresh blood flowing into his eyes.

"A yellow growth over the body…?" The Espada suddenly asked rather fast, his voice less angry and, to the boy's unease, more worried.

"Yes." Ichigo answered, trying to remain calm. It was hard however when the Espada suddenly seemed a bit alarmed, leaving the patient he had been treating, motioning to someone to take over. "It was just a corpse! We didn't think it was gonna do anything! S-Some fucked up thing suddenly came out of it. Some sort of spore!"

"You inhaled this spore?" The Espada grabbed the boy's bony arm, holding him still. Ichigo looked down at the hand, not liking the other grabbing him. But when he looked up in the arrancar's eyes, he was more worried with the look he was given than the firm grip.

"I'll have to inspect your eyes."

"Our eyes…?" Ichigo echoed questioningly, but then again the blood would not stop flowing and it was making him half blind, now matter how much he tried to blink it away. Frowning, Ichigo moved his sleeve in a try to wipe his face free from blood he knew it was smeared in.

Szayel nodded as he put on a new pair of gloves and Ichigo bit his lip as his head was carefully leaned back. Cautiously Szayel's fingers moved over one of Ichigo's wet eyelid, rising it up. Understanding what the arrancar was getting at, the boy looked down, the eyeball turning in its socket.

The scientist looked at the white of the eye, and frowned in annoyance as the blood wouldn't clear away or stop flowing from the boy's eyes. Annoyed, he let go of the boy and he turned around, grabbed a bottle and once more leaning Ichigo's head back. But Ichigo drew back as he saw the other hand holding something as it move over his exposed eyeball. He earned an irritated grunt.

"It's eye-drops. It should make your eyes bleed less;" Szayel said, eyeing the boy. Ichigo looked the thing, wiped his eyes clear again for the moment and saw through squinting eyes that it indeed looked like what the man claimed it was. Relaxing somewhat the Espada took the motion as an invitation and dropped the clear liquid into the boy's eyes that he pried open with his free hand.

As the blood cleared away for the moment, he could see the now white eyeball mesh into black at the very back of the ball. The black from the hollow, he assumed, lying in the back of the eye lurking until ready take over. What did bother him was not the black at all, but the faint yellow dots he spotted in it. It was in the white too, but not as easy to notice there. No wonder the eyes were desperately trying to clean themselves out with the blood.

It wasn't long until he let go of Ichigo, who blinked madly and tried not to scratch. The Espada in front of him grabbed his arm, stretched it out, gave it a quick swab with some sort of alcohol and without any warning stuck him with a needle.

"What are you doing?" Ichigo asked as he tried not to flinch to make the needle go deeper.

"Taking a blood sample," Szayel replied rather quickly. He seemed stressed and Ichigo wondered if the Espada knew what he was doing.

For some reason Ichigo got the feeling the man wanted to leave him as fast as he could, as if Ichigo was suddenly dangerous. It was unsettling. When the scientist seemed to be done, the needle out of his white skinned arm, which Ichigo had no clue how it could penetrate his skeleton hide at all, even with the alcohol, the Espada looked around himself, seeming to look for something and snapped his fingers a few times. Soon four Fracción were at his side.

"Take him to the isolation room, immediately!"

Before Ichigo knew it, he was hauled toward the back of the large room, past many injured arrancar he knew had been at the party in the desert.

"Hey! What's going on!" He asked loudly, shocked at the sudden change of actions. It hadn't seemed too bad at first, but then the Espada suddenly changed his mind? What had he seen when he had looked at his eyes?

Ichigo was given no response to his question as only a few seconds later a door was opened and he was thrown inside. Clumsily he landed on his unresponsive arm, mumbling curses as he got up from the ground. What the hell was this?

"Hey!" He screamed, banging on the door that had closed behind him. There was another door in front of him in the small room too, but he'd rather head out then further in to wherever he had been thrown.

But as expected there was no response. Instead some sort of ventilator opened on both sides of him on the narrow walls, air forcefully being vented out, blowing over his body, and some odd sent filled the air. One that reminded him of detergent. Quickly, Ichigo moved the back of his hand over his face, trying to stop the sterilising air from getting into his eyes. The harsh winds tore at his hair, moved in under his clothing and got to him everywhere, cooling his feverish body down.

Taking the opportunity pressed his hand against the left ventilators metal shaft, knowing it had been smeared in spores. But he was getting dizzy, enough air blowing into his lungs to make him feel as if he was hyperventilating at maximum speed. Leaning on his hand, he wondered when the damn winds were going to be subdued.

Luckily enough, as if his thoughts had been heard, the vents closed and shut off with a clunking sound. Squinting through his eyelids Ichigo noticed the other door, the one he hadn't come from, opened.

At first he didn't dare to move, but after nothing else happened he carefully stepped forward, peering into the room as if it held something scary or dangerous. What he saw, though, was nothing like that. It was a small room, one with a single bed in it and hardly anything else. The bed had several monitors attached over it.

A sterilised isolation room, Ichigo figured. Why had he been thrown in here? He was starting to get scared again. The Espada seemed to know what he had inhaled and acted immediately as if it was something dangerous, bad enough to make sure Ichigo didn't come in contact with anyone else. Ichigo turned around, to head back into the room with the vents, but found the second pair of doors now tightly locked. Quickly his hand rose to bang on the thick plastic surface.

"Hey!" his voice barked. "What's going on! Let us out of here!" At first he got no answer, even as he continued his banging on the door. Eventually his hand went numb from the continuous banging.

There suddenly was a sound from within the room, coming from somewhere near the bed. As he located the source of the sound, Ichigo found a small, well camouflaged speaker next to the bed.

"I can't let you out just yet. You will have to stay in there until I can determine if you really are infected or not. After I've taken care of the others." The voice was recognised as the scientist Espada.

"Infected! With what?" Ichigo wheezed, but the microphone had already been switched off. "HEY! What the fuck is wrong with us!" He bellowed loudly, but quickly regretted it.

He couldn't breath again, couldn't think. Ichigo tore at his dull blond hair, feeling stands of it loosen. He gasped for breath, air not seeming to fill him. It felt cramped, like the spear was still there, preventing him from breathing properly.

"What's happening to us?" he whispered out loud. He closed his eyes; he was starting to panic again. He had to relax. Had to relax. Relax.

But he couldn't, not after that reaction he had been given by the Espada. Walking back and forth in the room, Ichigo fiddled with his limp arm. This was bad, he knew it. It wasn't long until the violent coughs returned, making Ichigo stop and sit down on the lonely bed. His blurry, blood tinted gaze travelled over the white walls, up to the roof and down again. Wait. What was that? Looking more intensely now, he could spot, if he tilted his head a little, the gleam of a glass lens.

Cameras? What he being watched…? A stab of betrayal surged thought him for a split second until Ichigo reminded himself what this was an isolation room. Where you kept patients monitored daily as they had increased risk for getting infected or infected others. _Shit._

Turning his shoulders around Ichigo stared at the other corner of the wall, seeing no gleaming from a camera-lens in the opposite corner. Only one camera in the room he assumed. However what made his eyes narrow and turn around even more, to sit halfway off the bed, was the wall. It looked… odd. Leaving the soft mattress, Ichigo stepped up to it. Slowly lifting his hand, he touched the surface of the wall. No, this wasn't a wall; it was much too smooth to that. Furrowing his eyebrows Ichigo touched the other wall on the other side, finding its surface rugged. What was with the front wall? Touching it again, staring closer at it.

There definitely was something strange about it. Slowly he knocked on it, listening. Was it… glass? White painted glass or something. It had to be a window of some sort, that he couldn't see through but the people on the other side could. Like those mirror glass-things they often used in movies where they interrogated people, right? But this one was white instead of a mirror on his side. Was that even possible? But then again this wasn't earth, but fuck, it wasn't some sci-fi space-station either… He didn't like it, not at all, but dismissed it as something he didn't understand.

Walking back to the bed, Ichigo slowly slid down to the ground, where the window-like wall couldn't see him. The camera was still staring at him like a naked eye, but that was something he couldn't do anything about. He did, however, turn his back to it. Ichigo didn't know what to do or what was going on. His eyes clamped shut, smeary blood pushing out from his eyes, even if the eye-drop had helped a lot to lessen the flow. He was scared; he wasn't going to deny it.

What disease was the arrancar talking about! His eyes shot open again. It had to be able to be removed! He had to heal his body in some way!

"Hollow! Can't we heal this away!" Ichigo burst out. "We got blood in our body now? Shouldn't it be making us able to heal!"

_'No, you damn dumb fuck!'_ Shirosaki shot at his counterpart. _'It would have healed already if it could!'_ He added, annoyed, _'We can re-grow limbs or close flesh wounds, not heal some odd yellow shit!'_ The hollow gritted his teeth, feeling just as helpless as Ichigo.

"Then how do we stop it!"

_'Ch'! How the hell should I know? I'm not a doctor!'_ There was a brief pause. _'But how bad can it be?' Shiro said, 'It's just a cloud of some dead body, probably just dust!'_

"Yes I know we've seen, done, smelled and eaten things worse than durst, but that doesn't make it any less harmful!"

'_It's not like a mere cloud of spore can stop us, Ichigo!''_

Ichigo only rolled his eyes at the hollow's constant urge for power. "By the way the Espada reacted I'd say we're in deep shit again."

_'Again? Ch'! To me it seemed like we never got out of it.'_

"Pfft… true…" Ichigo mumbled, curling together tighter.

As he sat quietly on the white, flawless floor, doing his best not to scratch his still irritated eyes, he could hear the dull sounds from outside; the muffled screams and pained grunts; the overall hectic sound from tortured, injured people. 

Without knowing how long he sat curled up in a ball, fret was still strong in his body. It never wanted to leave him, not even after the screams from outside eventually, stopped. He didn't even notice them doing so, his own mind screaming at the top of its lungs. The boy didn't know what to do. Not at all. Yet again he was what he wanted to be the least: helpless.

He felt like he had done when he had fled to the freezing city just after he had lost his heart and wished for that hole he wanted to dig then now to come, a hole so deep he could never crawl up from it ever again. He tried to block everything out, but he couldn't, now not and, seemingly, never. He was beyond cursed and he knew it.

Slowly he moved his clawed, despised monster hand in front of his face, pushing it against it, red creases left behind on pale skin. The pain was numbing to his face; his tattered and worn, _disgusting_ face. In his self-loathing hate, him limbs trembled and his blood started to rush, his lips flushing and the bone mask crawled its way over his face without him summoning it. A grinning face to hide his distorted one from everything. Even himself.

But the brooding teen was not left alone for long. Two men entered, both dressed in yellow scrubs and their mouths covered with operating masks. Ichigo had no time to say anything or even turn around properly before his white arm was grabbed forcefully and pulled out to expose the crook of his arm. The other one, dressed exactly the same like the first, leaned forward with something in hand. Not trusting the two silent figures, Ichigo instantly tried to get away.

"What are you doing with that!" Ichigo asked loudly, his voice high-pitched with fear.

"Just calm down!" was the rough, almost angry and not very reassuring answer. Not trusting that voice at all, Ichigo wrenched himself free when the needle was only centimetres away.

He didn't know where to go, the instinct to get away strong enough to make him want to climb the walls. The two men, were only annoyed, if anything, at Ichigo's actions. Before Ichigo could even turn back around to face the intruders that had invaded his small room, one of them seemed to mumble something under his breath, making fast movements with his hands.

"Carriage of Thunder. Bridge of a spinning wheel. With light, divide this into six!"

The Kido ensnared the boy, twisting and trapping Ichigo's arms behind his back. A strangled scream pushed past his pale lips.

Desperately, Ichigo tried to pull his arms free, but before he could gather the power to do, the snake-like magic coiled around his waist, hard enough to make it feel like he was going to be cut in half. The six cane light prison kidō immobilised him in midair.

Ichigo hissed and barked in his imprisonment, thrashing like a wildcat. But there was little he could do to stop the needle from sliding beneath his skin now. As soon as the liquid was released inside his body he felt it numbing his limbs as it spread through his veins. It wasn't long until he hung limp in the magic's hold.

The kidō was released and it disintegrated into the air. The two men grabbed Ichigo before he fell to the white floor, holding him up by his arms. The boy could do little as he was dragged off, his feet shuffling across white floors. He had no idea where he was being taken, his vision limited to said floor and the marching feet of the two arrancar that held him. Breathing was hard in his odd position, his jaw almost lax in his numb face, making him drool over his lip and down his chin.

He passed thresholds into new rooms, but it gave no insight to where he was taken. However, when he was dragged to yet another room, he heard more people. Fear gripped at his gut when his body was hoisted up to lie on something.

Vaguely he could make out blurred figures, forms and shapes. A flash of pink walked past and soon returned. Trying to ask what was going on was all in vain for the boy, as his voice only came out in a dark gurgle, his mouth or any other part of his body refusing to cooperate due to the anaesthetic. However, he had little time to struggle until a mask of some sort was placed over his mouth and the world darkened around him.

The now limp body of the boy was placed properly over the white holder that hummed and moved inside the MRI. As soon as the machine was active it did what it was supped to do, scanning the soul inside. Several x-rays quickly appeared on the computers where the Espada was standing.

With a quick order of the images of the lungs and head to be printed out it, wasn't long until the Espada marched off, heading for the room where he knew his master was, to report his find. Once there, he opened the door after a hasty knock.

"Sir," he said, bowing in the doorway of the large room that had a balcony on the end, but before it there was a chair, in which Aizen was seated.

"Come on in, Szayel Aporro." the man asked his voice kind.

"I'm here to report that I've found another specimen." There a brief pause as he got up and stepped closer, holding up a paper for his superior to take. "Another infection of the un-named fungus."

"…Is that so?"

"Yes. It's the boy, sir."

"Kurosaki?" There was a light twitch in the man's left eyebrow, as if surprised. But it was hidden well. "How did he become contaminated?"

"After his punishment for his joining in the wild and inappropriate festivities in the desert he apparently ran away, into the unsupervised deserts of Hueco Mundo. Out there he claims to have run into a corpse with a yellow growth covering it," Szayel explained, trying to do his best to summarize the boy's ramblings from before. "I don't know whether he touched it or not, but he says spores came from it and he inhaled them. From the blood-samples and scans I've collected and started analyzing I can so far say that the boy has been infected by a sixty percent certainty."

"I see." Aizen moved his hand over his mouth as if pondering. "This is the same disease that infected one of the former Espada, am I correct?"

"Yes, the one I regretfully could not find a cure for in time."

Aizen fell silent as if pondering. "Do you think you will be able to find a way to distribute it in wide scale this time?"

"I will do my very best!"

"Very good, proceed then. I hope the boy will be more useful to your research. But keep me informed if you do find anything of value."

"Of course." The Espada bowed and left.

**End chapter**


	29. Under the weather

**Chapter 29: Under the weather**

For two weeks Szayel lived under the microscope and felt like there was no better place. Ichigo was kept sedated since the scientist found it a lot easier to work if he was. Szayel wasn't intending on letting the vizard out of the isolation room until he had gathered enough information anyway, or until the fungus had spread as far as he liked.

It was vital that he found something because he didn't want to disappoint Aizen again. He didn't know what the man would decide to do if he didn't. Aizen was not the kind-hearted leader he pretended to be. Szayel had to be careful not to make the wrong move or he would be severely punished for not living up to what it meant to be the eighth Espada.

When he had first discovered the fungus on several dead hollows in the Menos Forest Szayel had taken a great interest in it, since it could hold the key to his desire of wiping all non-hollows out of existence.

Aizen seemed to have shared his interest of using it as a weapon, but he also seemed keen on having a cure for it. Something Szayel hadn't intended on making, since he planned to stay out of the way once he distributed the disease. Since the spore died with its host if there was nothing for the fungus to spray it spores upon for a certain time, a cure would be un-wise to produce since he could simply wait until everything he had contaminated died.

But as he had many times before, Aizen once again forced his hand and Szayel was ordered to find a cure. The Espada figured the man was afraid of what might happen if he or any of his three soul-reaper friends got infected. Maybe Aizen could not risk having an unstoppable disease kill the ones he didn't wish to be killed.

Szayel frowned as he straightened the many bottles filled with embalming fluid and samples on their respective shelves. The man needed to make up his mind on things other than intending to become all powerful. But having a cure for a supposedly incurable disease would make Aizen more powerful than without. So Szayel saw the logic in the decision, even if he wished otherwise.

Unfortunately the research had come to a halt when the subject he had desperately tried to keep alive died. But something interesting had come from it. To his surprise the subject had not dissolved. This strengthened his hope of creating a world without shinigami and humans. But to his distress it only seemed to trouble Aizen and the man hadn't seemed too keen on keeping the dead body inside his palace. It had been disposed of and over the centuries that passed Szayel had lost track of it in the vast desert and his research had to be put to a halt.

But now, finally, he had new research material. This time he didn't intend on loosing his subject so fast. He was ready now and perhaps he could find a way to distribute the disease and the cure he was ordered to, even if it in the end meant killing the boy and infecting others just to keep the same sample alive. He had realized it was best to have the same sample during the study and that made the weak hollows in the Menos Forest below useless. Only strong creatures survived long enough. Well enough the boy seemed to be strong spirit-energy wise. So with new vigor Szayel once more, after many years of waiting, set to work.

He made slow progress, even when he kept on working for hours, days and weeks to no end. But even so he could not deny that his spirit rose dramatically whenever he found something of value from a test.

Eventually though he decided to wake the boy. It was unwise to keep him asleep with the use of drugs for too long, at least at this early stage. Ordering one of his subordinates to wake his subject, Szayel returned to his microscope.

A soft groan left Ichigo as he woke up and slowly pried his eyelids open. His body ached and when he moved his stiff hips he felt his legs groan in protest. His eyes rolled groggily in his skull.

How long had he been out?

His head felt stuffy and heavy, he couldn't breathe through his nose and his chest felt tight and congested. He tried to take a deep breath and his lungs erupted in a paroxysm of coughing that rasped in his throat and made his chest ache like hell and left him gasping air.

He covered his mouth and massaged his sternum to ease the pain. Ichigo sighed. He was so tired, the sudden and uncontrollable coughing attack getting the better of him.

Ichigo swallowed uneasily and tried to gather his surroundings. He was in the isolation room. Peering down at his own body, he found his protruding bones visible even through the layers of blankets he was covered in. He was wearing what he figured was a soft, white hospital gown.

Noticing that two transparent tubes travelled up from below the coverers, the boy saw that two bags steadily pumped him full of some clear liquid and the grey food that kept his hunger at bay. Ichigo knew he probably needed little else to survive, but that did not remove the uneasy feeling that something was worse than it seemed. He knew from experience that things were bad. Really bad.

"Hello?" His voice came out raspy and dry, surprisingly shaky-sounding. Leaning his head back Ichigo snorted. Why would anyone hear him anyway?

He felt like crap. He blinked, trying to force the daze out if him mind. Ugh. What was happening to him? Groaning and trying to swallow the thick saliva that filled his throat, Ichigo wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. He twisted in the soft bed, trying to find a position that was more comfortable, but the blessing of sleep didn't want to settle.

A while later Ichigo grunted when he heard the vents from the small room that was between this one and the hospital wing activate. After about a minute the pink haired scientist entered the room. Peering through half lidded eyes at the man, Ichigo did note that sound was oddly muffled in his left ear when the Espada moved about. The frown on his forehead deepened.

"How are you feeling?" The scientist asked. Ichigo tired not to acknowledge the fact that the Espada was dressed like he was about to walk into a nuclear reactor as he carefully changed an IV in boy's arm. "I had you on mild sedatives before to keep you in bed."

"Tired… Feel like crap…" Ichigo sighed and slowly reached up to rub his eyes. "How long were we out?"

"A total of seventeen days."

"Seventeen!" Ichigo shrieked in surprise, almost poking his own eye out. "What the hell? Why so long?"

"Because I've been unsuccessful in finding a way to improve your declining condition."

Ichigo cleared his throat that still felt clogged with phlegm and asked stupidly, "We're declining?"

"Correct. But the symptoms will come and go. You may feel better for a short or long while and then get worse again." Pausing, he continued, "I need another sample to see if any change happened from an injection I gave you. That's why I came."

"You gave us an injection?"

"I gave you quiet a few when you were sedated. They helped the other Espada."

Ichigo grimaced. He felt like he had done back when he was locked up in one of the cells of the palace. It was unsettling.

He didn't know what to what to say. He couldn't escape the grip the arrancar had him in and he knew it. He had to try and stay calm, for once. "Is it the _thing_ affecting me?" Ichigo didn't know what to call it.

"Yes, but mostly it's the sedatives and the IV. They're refreshing your body, not quiet like blood but on a similar level to slow it from spreading."

Before Ichigo had any change to comment about it, Szayel continued, not intending to waste time.

"Alright, I'm going to try and explain what happened to you," The scientist looked like serious behind the protective glass of his suit. "The spore you inhaled is from a parasitic fungus, similar to cordyceps and mucor. There are many types of it, but only one can survive in Hueco Mundo and with the little information I've gathered, I'd say it mostly grows on hollows that live in the Menos Forest since it's damp and moist there. I have never had a chance to study it much, since the former Espada that that got infected died too fast. Simply put, it's a parasitic fungus that's eating you from the inside out."

Ichigo paled at the last statement. He had been gripping the bed railing so desperately that his right hand remained curled to the shape of it.

"It's a rare condition, but when it does infect someone the subject almost always dies. The disease wasn't contagious with the former fourth Espada at first. I don't know how it will be with you, so I'm not going to take any chances right now."

"What? You mean we have to stay in here!" Ichigo burst out, but his voice disappeared and he started coughing, his throat getting sore fast. _Ugh._

"Yes, until I can determine if you are contagious or not."

"Contagious!" Ichigo managed to choke out. At least now he knew why the Espada was wearing the odd suit.

"Yes." He repeated, a bit louder to be heard over the boy. "It doesn't look good." He mumbled and waited for Ichigo to stop wheezing. Eventually, much to Ichigo's relief, it died down and he collapsed back into the bed with a tired moan.

Szayel grabbed one of the many papers he had taken with him and he held up what Ichigo recognized as an MRI scan. Ichigo grimaced as he realized it was of his own head. A gloved finger from Szayel pointed at a black blob with small strings coming out of it. Ichigo could only stare, his eyes large with both fear and surprise. Slowly he took the scan in his own hand and looked closer, his eyes unable to tear away from the abnormal blackness.

"It will keep on growing out over your body. The other arrancar died after six months, but I have the information I gathered then now, so I will by most certainly be able to slow it down a lot further."

"Wait, wait! Did you say that the arrancar, that former Espada died? … You mean dissolve and get reborn?" Ichigo questioned and hope he had got something right from all the fast and angry lessons he had gotten from Rukia when they had newly met.

"No… I mean die as most humans regard dying. Gone and nothing more, simply because the fungus prevents the body from dissolving to completely sucks all life out of it."

Ichigo wasn't listening to the Espada anymore. He was too busy trying not to have an angry outburst. He took a couple of deep breaths and tried to think about something else instead. But he didn't know how to react and the rush of emotion he had tried to hold back erupted into anger.

"You planned all this, didn't you! You set us up!" Ichigo spit, the saliva not getting far, only smearing down his lower lip and chin as he hissed and threw the MRI scan at the scientist. "You disgusting arrancar!"

"No, I'm not intending to let you die! I'm trying to help you!" Szayel shouted over the grunting sounds of the boy. Ichigo only screamed.

"Why would you do that? We're not even the same species as you! Why! It's some scheme against us, isn't it! To watch us die slower!" Ichigo screeched, twisting in the bed, trying to get out and hit the arrancar.

"I'm trying to slow it down!" The Espada shouted. "You're a man of Las Noches now, that's why I'm trying to help you, nothing more." Szayel promptly lied. He was careful not to add; _you are no use to me dead._

"It's all your and your fucking arrancar friends' fault!" Ichigo hissed and started to rise off the bed, but Szayel pushed his shoulders down into the soft bed he laid in.

"Fucking bastard, get off me!" In a violet twitch Ichigo lashed out with his claws toward Szayel. The scientist easily dodged the blow and before Ichigo could even think about striking again, a needle had been pushed into his abdomen. At first he just stared, not really understanding where the syringe had come from.

"Shit." Ichigo cursed, the world around him already getting fuzzy.

"No need to get so violent, boy."

Taking the saliva sample he had come to get, he left the isolation room after he had made sure the vizard boy was fully sedated and undressed from the hazmat suit.

_Stupid boy._ Suspicious little paranoid child.

Maybe he shouldn't have let the boy wake up; maybe he should just have kept Ichigo in the dark for another couple of weeks. Maybe a medically induced coma would calm the boy enough. The thought pleased Szayel as he settled at his large working desk.

But then again the boy's brain hadn't sustained initial brain injury. There was no increased pressure or swelling. Nor was it good if the boy anesthetized for too long, as the disease might spread faster than he'd like if Ichigo wasn't allowed to be awake or regain strength through natural sleep. Frowning, Szayel knew he just had to let the subject be for now.

Grabbing a folder and pulling out a paper, he went back to work. However he wasn't allowed to work undisturbed for long until a seemingly annoyed Ulquiorra summoned him to his master's room. Equally annoyed, the scientist left the microscope he had been glued to, removed the latex gloves and replaced them with his white ones and headed out of the medical ward. Arriving at his destination he tried not to seem irritated.

"Szayel-Aporro." Aizen smiled gently and drank from a cup of tea before cutting straight to business. "I want you to inform me when the Kurosaki boy is contagious. When he is, I want you to send him home."

"But sir!" Szayel was taken by surprise. He had not foreseen this. "I have not gathered enough information yet to be able to find the antidote you requested!"

"Yes, I am aware of that, but I have yet to see if anyone else will get infected at all. I have read in your old reports that there are no visible signs in the diseases early stages, yet it is highly contagious?"

"That is correct." Szayel answered stiffly. He was not aware that the man had read his private reports on his private research and he did not like where this was going.

"Good." Yet another soft smile grazed Aizen's lips that Szayel did not find very pleasing. "I want you to inform me when that happens and send him home. I think it will be a very good way to test a theory I have… Very much so…" A sly smile spread on the man's face for a moment as he seemed to talk more to himself that to the Espada in front of him. "I want you to send information of this disease with the boy so he can give to his _father._ That will surely make things stir."

The Espada gritted his teeth for a second before he closed his eyes and smoothed his face. He could not show he was upset over this. "I will sir."

"You seem displeased, Szayel. Is something wrong with my request?"

"Not at all, sir." If he refused, he knew that certain measures would be taken to make him do it anyway.

"Good, I look forward to reading your next report." He nodded kindly toward Szayel. "Dismissed."

The scientist stepped out of the dome and his fingers curled. _Stupid non-hollow _he thought bitterly. Why wasn't he allowed to keep his research? It was such a marvellous sight to watch the boy decay in his grip. Frowning, Szayel headed for the hospital room, intending to make the most of the little time he had left.

The microscope once more served him better then any other instruments he had. Carefully he analyzed the new saliva sample, looking for traces of small, aggressive dots. When he, to his joy, found a small one he was, irritatingly enough, interrupted by a beep indicating that the boy had once more awakened. Szayel frowned and decided to ignore it for now. The child couldn't get out the isolation room undetected anyway.

With a bark Ichigo woke up, still thinking the Espada was out to get him. His arms felt rubbery and his head reeled when he got into an upright position. Ichigo moaned, realising he was alone once more. His body felt weird and foreign to him. His mind didn't feel as sharp as it usually did and his thoughts meandered drunkenly.

Managing get himself into an upright position, Ichigo waited until the room had stopped spinning before he tried to get out of bed. After he had put down the bars that kept him from falling out, he pulled his legs over the edge of the bed. He sat staring at his feet for a while to catch his breath before he slid farther down until his feet touched the ground.

He shivered from the cold and wondered if he was up for standing. Also, he couldn't get far with the limited range of the IV. Why was he about to get up anyway? He didn't know, but he just had to. It was an itchy desire to get away from what bound him. Ichigo's frown tightened. Maybe it was better to just lie back down and ignore the urge. Hell, he had just woken up since… well, he had no idea.

Carefully he hoisted himself back onto the soft bed. It was cold with his legs outside the covers, anyways. That was the problem with having no fat to pad the bones; it was always so damn cold.

Hiding his body under the blankets again he closed his darkly rimmed eyes and decided it was best to try and sleep for real instead of a drug keeping him unconscious. But like before, he could not still his mind enough. The only thing his mind seemed keen on thinking of was the MRI scan. His minds eye could see nothing but the blackness growing larger and larger until his very head was nothing but those black, tangled vines.

His eyebrow twitched in irritation. The boy screamed into the pillow, fear mingled with frustration coursing through his every nerve and he pulled at the bed covers, feeling the fabric groan in protest. He couldn't shake the images from his mind and he felt like he was a balloon filled to the rim with frustration; agonizing and hateful emotions that were always about to burst, but somehow never did.

The scream did more than make his eyes teary and lower lip pull together. It made him realise something was off with his hearing, even more now than when the Espada had come into his room. All sounds were coming form the right. A desperate whimper escaped his trembling lips and carefully Ichigo reached to finger lightly at his ear.

His eyes widened when he felt something inside the ear canal. Whatever it was, it was still beneath his skin, but it was like an abscess just waiting to explode. He could feel it throb.

It blocked out all sound and he was completely deaf in his left ear. Ichigo curled together in a ball as his breath quickly gained speed, realisation hitting him like a train — _it was coming out if his ear_.

A spidery finger made its way deeper into the hole, his pointy claw scraping against the boil that wasn't supposed to be there. He kept digging even when he felt the grease from the liquids the IV's injected him with seep out and he couldn't help but to smear it into his hair, over his neck and parts of his face. Shocked, Ichigo stared forward into nothing.

Why had he been so careless? Why did he have to run in exactly that direction, just to that specific place? What was wrong with him? Was he cursed since birth? First he lost his beloved mother, then his life.

Before he knew it gray, thick tears ran down his cold cheeks. His eyes were wide and his lips parted to gasp for air. The lump in his throat grew bigger every minute, even if he tried to swallow it. Was he going to let it grow until it strangled him?

Tears clouded his vision and it felt as if the world was spiralling out of control. In a vain attempt to get away from it all, the boy focused on the sideways world he knew was inside of himself. A falling feeling followed until his feet met with blue concrete.

The dark sun hung before him. It had grown large in the cloudy sky; as if it was greedily sucking the heavens up like a black hole in space. It selfishly tore his soul apart. Unthinkingly Ichigo curled his skinny arm around himself at the sight of it, feeling pathetic in the storm that trashed his side-turned world in an uproar of emotion.

He slid to his knees, unable to even phantom a thought of what to do with himself. He had no control over his life anymore. All he could do was to lie in the stupid bed in the isolation room. A loud wail escaped him and tearful sobs filled the silence. Tears made their way down his cheeks here as well and Ichigo leaned forward until his head met with concrete. He gritted his teeth.

He couldn't cope with this any more than he could cope with his mother's death, which he had never been able to fully do. He tore at his hair and crushed his face against the building he lay upon. The feeling of something constantly being eaten away from within seemed small compared to the grip the fear of dying had on him.

Loudly, he wept like a child. Because that was what he was, wasn't he? A child, a young boy that hadn't lived what people called life. He had missed out on so many things since he became what the girl Rukia had called a Shinigami. _Death God_. Death was what he had become since he'd met her.

He was only fifteen, a mere boy, so recently a child, and there were choices he should not be asked to make. He had hidden well behind a tough 'don't mess with me' attitude, but that didn't make him any more qualified for the task he was given.

Ichigo couldn't understand how he could have trusted that girl to stick her own sword into his heart just so he could save his family. He had died for his family's sake, but never had he guessed that death would be so very hard. What had happened to the songs and tales of peace that would be found beyond the night? Where was the sacred ground? Why wasn't the pain and sorrow gone? Grimly Ichigo wished that his death had been nothing more than darkness.

The rain grew heavier and a monsoon threatened to overtake the drizzle. The dark clouds twisted in the sky and tried to keep the water in, but failed miserably and the water shot down like bullets from a bombardment airplane.

The downpour messily hit everything in the vast world, and Ichigo was no exception. The water rose around him in the window he lay upon. It drenched his clothes and matted his hair and chilled him to be bone.

Ichigo curled together and stared at his own reflection in the water. Clamping his eyes shut he smashed his hand into the water, destroying his own reflection. He watched the water ripple and for a second he thought it had distorted into white. At first he was confused by it, then he realised his inner hollow was standing in front of him and the white boy's reflection was meshing with his own.

"Shirosaki." Ichigo acknowledged, but did not look up or shift from the foetal position he had taken.

"Ichi…" The hollow grunted. He looked like he'd swallowed bile. "What are we gonna do?"

"I don't know…" Ichigo mumbled and watched as the water bounced off the back of his white hand.

"Ah, come on!" It was almost as if the hollow had expected Ichigo to have all the answers. He was, after all, in charge of the body most of the time. If either of the two would know what to do it was Ichigo. "There has to be something we can do! We have to drive it out!" 

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Ichigo sighed indifferently and slowly sat up from the wet ground.

At first Shirosaki looked like he was going to tell Ichigo a brilliant idea, but then the characteristic smile faltered and a frustrated sound escaped instead. The hollow growled and his hands dropped to his sides. Shirosaki looked up, the rain dripping in his eyes, making him blink.

"At least make it stop raining, partner."

Ichigo raised his eyebrows at the hollow. "How can it ever stop raining, Shiro, after all that happened?" he asked. "It will never get better."

Shirosaki growled. How pathetic, too bloody pathetic! He grabbed Ichigo's hair and pulled him to his knees. Ichigo jerked at the intense pain in the roots of his hair and pushed his hollow away.

"What the hell was that for!"

"For being too goddamn pathetic! Get a fucking grip!" The hollow bellowed. "Feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to make it go away!"

"Then what will Shirosaki! What will make it go away!" It was Ichigo's turn to scream.

"Doing something about it will! Forcing it out! Show that stupid fucking _plant_ isn't welcome here!" Frustration surged through Shirosaki and he heaved Ichigo up, who seemed unwilling to get to his feet on his own.

"Come!" The hollow grabbed his king by the arm and stubbornly pulled him with him. Splashing though water puddles that soaked both him and his counterpart to the bone, he led Ichigo through his own soul, past buildings Ichigo had never seen. Past skyscrapers where curtains were pulled over the windows or the light turned off. Blocked or blurry memories Ichigo couldn't fully recall floated inside. The orange haired teen was led to forgotten realms in his memories, to where the skyscrapers were small and frail.

"Where are we going, hollow?" Ichigo growled, getting irritated at the constant pulling of his arm. It was his left one, too, which made it uncomfortable. He couldn't feel Shirosaki's hard grip at all.

"You'll see. We'll be there soon."

True to his word, after only a few more jumps between the buildings the hollow started heading down one. He and Ichigo jogged downhill the many stories until, to Ichigo's surprise, they moved through rainy fog. Ichigo had never been this far down before. Was there even a bottom?

"Where is this?" He asked his hollow, who had slowed to a walk and let go of Ichigo, who followed on his own.

Peering through the fog, to Ichigo's own surprise he could make out vertical asphalt that towered above him as massive roads. He could see them zigzag between the skyscrapers and disappear into the mist. There even were lonely trees planted along the roads and he could even spot a sideways playground through the fog. Ichigo gaped in amazement. He'd had no idea.

Ichigo found it beautiful. Why had he not known about this? The boy stopped in his tracks to stare and Shirosaki had to pull him along again.

"Don't get all over-romantic, King, it's not as pretty as it seems." He sounded bitter and Ichigo couldn't help but to frown as a feeling of unwanted dread filled him. What was wrong?

He didn't get a chance to ask before something appeared in the fog, something that clung to the vertical walls of asphalt. Ichigo's face grew grim. More and more of whatever-it-was was revealed the closer Ichigo and his hollow got.

The entire crossroad was covered in yellow root-like things, which seemed to have anchored into the ground. It had spread everywhere. The road, the trees that were already dead, and the grassplots that grew before the skyscrapers were all infected as far as Ichigo could see. To his added horror, in two buildings the greedy roots had grown through the door and broken the windows to consume every room inside.

Ichigo screamed out in shock as he realized the memories inside were not there anymore and unable to return because of the fungus taking its place.

"Oh God! Shirosaki! We have to do something!" Ichigo grabbed the hollow's white uniform and violently shook him. "It's fucking killing us! Eating our soul, eating _my memories_!"

"S-stop it!" The hollow stuttered, his head jutting back and forth, before he shoved Ichigo away.

"Can't you see what it's doing!" Ichigo shouted desperately as he pointed at the destroyed windows with his entire arm.

"Of course I can see it! Why the hell do you think I brought you here!" The hollow looked as distressed as Ichigo.

Ichigo gritted his teeth and stared at the hollow for answers. What were they going to do? "Well?" He asked in a stern voice. "You said something about it not being welcome here?"

The hollow didn't seem to get what Ichigo was saying at first, but then quickly realized what Ichigo was hinting at and a large grin that didn't seem genuine to Ichigo spread over the pale face. "Let's show it who's in charge here, shall we, eh, King?"

Shirosaki reached back to grab hold of his weapon and swung it out in front of him. The inner hollow violently fired a Getsuga.

"Getsuga Tenshō!" The shot was shaky and unsure; neither of the two knowing what would happen if they attacked. The energy wave blasted through the air and collided heavily with the road and the fog twisted and coiled madly. The two young boys held their breathings as the mist cleared.

To both the hollow's and Ichigo's satisfaction a large gash had appeared in both the road and the strings from the fungus. The hollow grinned triumphantly at his king.

"Hah! I told you doing something about it would help!" The hollow smirked and turned back to the wall-like road.

Both of them attacked without mercy and ran deeper and deeper into the city. How far it had already grown made Ichigo's imaginary heart twist, but he kept on going until both the hollow's and Ichigo's arm ached from the hard work and their breaths caught in their throats. When the two of them finally found what could be recognized as the end of the vile mold, Shirosaki stepped back with satisfied grin.

"Not too shabby!" His grin grew. "See, no need to be a crybaby about it." He leered at his King.

Ichigo only shrugged at the comment, not intending to let the hollow's mockery get to him.

He was rewarded with a giggle. "Let's head back shall we?"

Ichigo nodded in agreement and both boys headed back the way they came. However as they were almost back to where they started, they were met with something they didn't expect.

Yellow, vine-like roots, all over the road. It had all grown back, out of the broken road, and it was even thicker than before. It looked like enormous slugs were creeping out from beneath the concrete. Ichigo dropped his cleaver.

"No, no, no, _NO_!" He screamed and pulled at his hair. The hollow stood beside him, his smile of triumph wiped off his face. Ichigo twitched in place, his hand shaking at his side and his legs trembling. Before he knew it he ran off, into the fog and away. His weapon lay forgotten.

Knowing there was no use to try and stop the boy the hollow sighed and grabbed the black cleaver. He carried both his and the King's soul cutter on his back. It was heavy, but he just couldn't let Zangetsu lie there unattended and perhaps be covered with the distasteful infection. He walked slowly, feeling bitter. His frown deepened.

He had felt bitter for a long time now. Much too long. But it wasn't easy to feel anything else when it was constantly pouring down a monsoon no matter where he went. Before, when it didn't rain all the time, he had hid inside the hallways of the lowest part of the buildings, far down where the rain couldn't get him. Now after the months of constant downpour, all the lower parts of the buildings were flooded and the massive fog that grew thicker everyday became harder and harder to breathe through.

Shirosaki knew that soon he would have no choice but to stay at the top of the buildings, something he didn't like. There was nothing to look at there, no small playground to vandalize or trees to break. There never was any change at the roofs of the skyscrapers and it made him bored. Back when Ichigo had changed moods it had been a terrific display of colors that kept Shirosaki entranced, but now it was always a darkened sky with heavy clouds and a black sun that grew bigger everyday. It made the hollow bitter.

Exhaling noisily, Shirosaki removed the dark cleaver from his back and placed its tip in the ground, next to the huddled form of Ichigo. He didn't say anything, knowing nothing would cheer the boy up. 

They sat in stiff silence for the longest of time, only a low sob from Ichigo breaking the otherwise silent world. Shirosaki tried to get some water out of ear and heaved another loud sigh. Ichigo himself only stared at the black hole in the sky. Or was it his black moon? Black Getsuga? If it was, he didn't want it.

"King…" Shirosaki's mumble broke the silence.

"What!" Ichigo asked and furiously smeared his tears away.

"It's not going to disappear while you sit here and cry."

"Don't you think I know that! You don't have to state the obvious all the _fucking_ time!" he was tired, a headache was building up in his cranium and most of all he felt like he couldn't sink any lower. Wearily he massaged his temples and tried to ignore his hollow.

"Ch'!" The hollow crossed his arms. "I'm not going to have it Ichigo." Shirosaki moved closer, close enough so Ichigo couldn't ignore him. "Go do something useful or get the hell out of here!"

"Do something useful!" Ichigo got up from the ground. "I'm the one doing something all the time! You never, _ever_ do anything at all!" Ichigo's voice rose steadily in volume.

"_I'm_ the one not doing anything!"

"Yeah, you! Do you see anyone else here!" Ichigo spit and grabbed Shirosaki's white haori.

"Get the hell out of my face!" Shirosaki pushed Ichigo away and bared his teeth. 

"I'm fucking out of here!" Ichigo waved the hollow off and turned around to leave.

"Yeah, just go and hide out there! Where you can't see what's happening!" Shirosaki bellowed, his hands curling into fists.

"Says you who always hide in here!" Ichigo turned around and pointed an accusing finger at the hollow. "You're always thinking you know best! But let me tell you, you don't know anything!" Ichigo's face contorted with anger the clouds twisted into dark thunderclouds in the sky. "You only sit in here all fucking day doing and knowing nothing!"

"Oh yeah! I don't know anything do I? Don't you dare say I don't know anything! I live inside your fucking head!"

"That's right! You're nothing but a stupid voice in my head!"

Shirosaki slashed out with his claws, hitting Ichigo in the face. "Fuck you!"

"I hate you!" Venom filled Ichigo's voice. He grunted in pain as three gashes opened in his cheek. "Ah! Damn it!" He cradled the torn flesh.

"I hate you too!" Shirosaki punched Ichigo this time.

"Fuck you! I've had enough of you!" Ichigo cradled his head, stepping away from the hollow in a dazed manner. He hissed furiously in pain. "I'm leaving!"

"Get out!" Shirosaki shook with frustration and once more the rain grew heavier through the clashing thunder.

When Ichigo returned to the world outside his own he found his mask covering his face, but he didn't remove it. He found it rather comforting to have something to hide behind, even if it were a pair of evil eyes and a grinning smile that told of nothing but lies.

The headache he had felt starting before now sank its teeth into him. He groaned in both anger and pain. He grabbed the bed railing, pulling and clenching it as hard as he could in a small attempt to vent some steam. _Stupid hollow._

Swallowing uneasily he felt queasy and couldn't help but to touch his deaf ear as he glared angrily at the white walls. The nauseous feeling didn't want to pass. Leaning back and cleaning his throat, Ichigo began to worry. His worry escalated into fear when another coughing attack hit him. It tore at his throat and he felt himself get covered in sweat. He tried to settle down and take deep breaths. It didn't help.

Instead his mouth started to flood with saliva. It didn't want so stop, and his eyes were wide as he gasped for air. He grabbed at his throat and tried to massage his chest. He tried to swallow but couldn't and phlegm dribbled down his mouth and chin.

Gasping and inhaling sharply, Ichigo clutched his abdomen because of a sudden stab of pain. His body curled together as his head leaned forward, sharp moans of pain escaping him. He supported his head against his hand. He tried to breathe the pain away through the intense coughing that left his body covered in sweat.

Squeezing his eye's shut Ichigo moaned again. _Ugh. _He tried to straighten out, but his stomach kept itself knot. Struggling, Ichigo tried to move so he could hit the emergency button next to his bed, but as he was about to push it, his fingers slipped away from the push button, hesitating.

Being dependent on that arrancar was unwanted. His hand moved back to kneaded gently at his soft stomach, and ever so slowly he managed to relax enough to lie down.

Grimacing as the attack subsided, Ichigo felt the taste of blood in his mouth. He reached up and scraped his claws carefully against his tongue. No blood on his fingers. Frowning, he pushed his fingers in deeper and against the insides of his cheeks. Nothing, just a lot of saliva.

Drying his mouth of the offending drool with the bedcovers, Ichigo wondered if he was hallucinating. It tasted like his mouth was filled with blood, yet there was only transparent phlegm. He tried to relax, his body feeling heavy and wasted in the sweat-soaked bed.

The saliva wouldn't stop flowing from his mouth, and it was hard to lie on his back. He was getting worried; it was not normal to drool this much. If he leaned forward and relaxed his jaw, it only took a couple of seconds before the thick, blood-tasting phlegm made a small pool on the white bed spread.

Figuring this wasn't something to keep secret, Ichigo pushed the button and hoped the Espada would come quickly. After a couple of minutes Ichigo pushed the button again. The saliva in his mouth was getting hard to breathe through. Closing his mouth, he settled on breathing through his nose that seemed filled with snot or some other vile substance.

Eventually the eighth Espada entered the isolation room, once more dressed in the hazard suite. Ichigo didn't like it when the scientist wouldn't speak to him but instead seemed keener on taking samples of the saliva with a large q-tip.

"Wh-" Ichigo tried to speak, but when he opened his mouth all the phlegm that had gathered flooded out. It was disgusting and Ichigo shuddered in pure disgust and he couldn't stop the reflex to vomit. He lurched forward and threw up. It came in waves, the liquid mingled with green gastric acid.

But that wasn't the worst part; it was that the acid that came from his stomach flowed into his lungs instead, as his chest was wide open. Ichigo panicked and he screamed through the vomit.

The eight Espada was quick to help, assisting Ichigo in leaning forward even more for the thick liquid to pour out. He knew however that that little action would not help and quickly removed the IV's from Ichigo's arm before pulling the shaking boy out of bed.

The Espada carried the boy bridal style out of the isolation room. He ignored the alarm that was set off when he forced the outermost door open.

Hurrying, he placed the vizard in the open shower compartment that was made for emergencies to clean out wounds and such. Grabbing the shower hose, he pulled it out and turned the boy around to place it inside the lungs to wash them out.

Ichigo hacked violently and tried to move away from the water that drowned him, but Szayel held him his arm in a hard grip. The gastric acid and saliva was cleaned out by the violent water.

Standing on all fours and supporting himself by the elbow and with a great deal of effort Ichigo lowered himself to lie down on the smooth, white tile. He breathed heavily, his entire body shaking violently and his eyes filled with tears from pain and fear. His chest still burned, but he couldn't find the strength to scream and only low moans escaped him.

"I will give you something to stop the excessive formation of saliva."

Something was placed in his mouth after the Espada returned; something dry that seemed keen on sucking up the saliva, which seemed to have lessened a lot after he had thrown up. He was given a pill for pain relief that Szayel pushed directly into his esophagus from the hole in his lungs.

Ichigo didn't really notice any of it, but he did get a little more clearheaded when he was lifted to his feet and placed on a low bed nearby after being cleaned off from sweat. As he sat in a slumping position, his entire body sagging together from exhaustion, he was helped into a new gown by a Fracción. He was told to wear a protective operating mask over his mouth from now on, so his saliva would not contaminate anything sterile in the room.

The Fracción walked back with him to his room. There he lay down the bed with a relieved sigh and fresh covers were placed over him. He was too tired to even notice that the assisting arrancar left. With a sigh and a grimace Ichigo fell back into the covers, finally alone. His entire body felt like it had been beaten with a sledgehammer several times, especially his head. His face crumbled, twisting and contorting in pain along with his mangled body.

Sitting down in front of his desk, Szayel wrote down the change of characteristics of the symptoms the vizard boy was experiencing. It was, after all, the most interesting stage of development so far and no quick change in Ichigo's status would occur again for a long while. At least, it hadn't on the other subject.

He thought over the alternatives and figured taking a dozen more samples would have to do for now. He had to report the outcome of the boy even if he was reluctant to do so. Twenty four hours after the incident, with no change to the exhausted condition of the boy, the eight Espada once more headed to Aizen to give a report he knew the man would like.

"I regret to inform you that I have not found anything near an antidote yet, but I'm happy to announce that he's in the right faze, sir." Szayel announced and held up some quick scribbles of what had happened to the boy.

"Very good, very good indeed…" Aizen mumbled as he read the report and eyed some of the test results Szayel had bought with him as well. "So he's now able to contaminate other?"

"Yes. As the report says, I found large amounts of the infectious spores in the saliva samples. So if you still plan on loosing this fine subject, this is the time to do so."

"Very well, send him home then." The shinigami said, completely ignoring the request on not letting the boy go.

"Yes, sir." The Espada bowed and left.

Szayel frowned, not wanting to give his fine subject away. But he wouldn't act like a greedy kid and not do what he was told. He didn't want to succumb to his master's hypnosis again; he had too many painful memories of that. Too many dreadful manipulations of his every psyche and, as a scientist, there was no greater humiliation. At least he could hope someone would suffer from sending the boy away.

Said boy lay staring at nothing in his bed. Ichigo wondered if he perhaps was better off in the inner world, cutting away the yellow slimy vines like his hollow was probably doing. But he was still too tried. He blinked wearily and grimaced when he heard someone enter. What now? Ichigo sighed; he was so tired, oh so very tired. He could barely hold his eyes open, but the pain in his chest from the acid kept him awake, even with the relieving drugs.

"Kurosaki, I'm here to announce that you are allowed to leave the isolation room when you are rested and that if you wish to go back to your father you may do so."

"What…?" was all Ichigo could say, the statement from the Espada completely unexpected.

"I said, you are allowed to leave you-"

"Why the sudden change?" Ichigo cut in, not really needing to re-hear what the man said despite his limited hearing. "We couldn't go before..." Ichigo paused to take a shaky breath. "... and it seems like we got _a lot _worse yesterday."

"True, but since you are rapidly getting worse, I discussed the matter with Aizen and we agreed that you might appreciate some time with you family and friends." He lied; he couldn't make it seem like there were dark intentions behind the decision. 

At first Ichigo said nothing, but then his lips tightened. He looked at the Espada seriously.

"We do not wish to go back there." There was no way he was going back. The only reason he had come back to Las Notches was because here he would not hurt is frail family. Here he could not slay the ones he loved. "Especially not now when we are sick."

_Damn it._ Szayel thought grimly. He had not anticipated this.

"But I'm sure they miss you." Szayel was not good at this. Family. What a pathetic thing. The boy beneath him was a hollow, why hadn't he stopped caring? Probably hadn't eaten enough souls to get rid of pitiful emotions. He hadn't merged with enough people to loose his own personality among them to not care.

"Oh, we know they miss us," said Ichigo, "and we miss them. But we are a hollow and they are not."

"I'm sure they can overlook that small fact." Szayel's face strained.

"_They can't."_ Ichigo pressed. "You should know that as well as us." Going back wasn't what he wanted, not until he was normal again, which was something he would never be. The more time he spent home the more hollow he felt inside. It was easier to see the gap between him and all living things when he was there. The cold and empty feeling it created only pressed his soul deeper into darkness and the deeper he went there, the more the monster inside told him to _kill_.

"Well, you have to go." The Espada finally said, unable to come up with anything to say on the family subject.

"Why?" Ichigo pressed.

"Because—if you won't then master Aizen will make sure you do. He doesn't want sick vermin like you running around in his palace." Szayel made up the harsh lie as he spoke. He needed the boy out of here before Aizen made things nasty.

"What?" Ichigo didn't know if he was going to laugh or not. Not that he ever laughed, but still.

"Aizen threw away the first Espada that got infected. He will not hesitate to do the same to you."

"What are we going to do?" Ichigo's eyes were slightly panic-stricken from the serious demeanor of the scientist.

"What I said; go home."

"We told you we can't go home."

"Then somewhere else."

"Shinigami will find and kill us." Ichigo protested.

"The stay out of harms way." Szayel pressed.

"What's wrong with you!" Ichigo was screaming now. "Why do you think we came to the desert in the first place! It certainly wasn't to get locked up in this fucking palace!"

Szayel did not intend to argue with a mere child anymore. "Either you leave willingly and I will give you some supplies or I'll throw you out with nothing but your hide! Go to you're _damn _family and stay there!"

Choosing to interpret those words as a threat, Ichigo became placating. "All right. Fine. We hear you. We'll go."

Ichigo cowered under the man's harsh and loud voice. He had never heard him swear before, nor had he heard his voice twitch into the deep growl of the monster that also clawed within Szayel, always trying to get out and consume whatever stood in the way. Ichigo swallowed uneasily. He was in no condition to face that monster. Still, Ichigo growled under his breath as he gave into the demands.

"You're leaving tomorrow." Without another word the eighth Espada left. He wasn't going to undergo any torture just because the child refused to go. He would have dumped the boy there himself if he hadn't have gone willingly.

Tomorrow arrived too soon for Ichigo's liking. Several Fracción forced him out of his bed, placed a mouth-protecting mask over his hollow mask without his consent, and dragged his struggling body out of the isolation room. Even if he had rested and managed to sleep for a few hours he was still exhausted.

"We don't know want go!" Ichigo said as his was forced to sit on a gurney.

"Master says patient will go, so he will!" A small, round and dense looking Fracción said. It was serious, even if its stupid, high-pitched voice that reminded Ichigo of his hollow made it seem unable to be serious.

Happily enough Ichigo was allowed to put on his old uniform on his own. He greatly appreciated it, glad to wear something other than the embarrassing gown. The rougher fabric of the white uniform did a better job at hiding Ichigo's scrawny form. Nevertheless, he still looked tired and thin beyond belief. Tiredly he scratched his scalp with his claws but stopped and growled lowly when the eight Espada approached.

Szayel put a small bag on the side of the white gurney Ichigo was sitting on.

"I put medication and a container with nutrients for you in here. I also put a folder in there for your father so he can more easily understand what has happened to you."

Ichigo looked inside the bag, fingering at the two glass bottles, reading their names. _Cephalexin_. Frowning, Ichigo knew what that was. It was a type of antibiotic, generally used to treat bacterial infections. He remembered it from a book he had once read, forced upon him by his father. He didn't know what the other one was.

"We want Zangetsu before we leave." Ichigo demanded. Even if he was just going home to his family he would not feel safe without his soul-cutter.

Sazyel's eyebrows twitched in irritation and he closed the zipper of the bag and put it in Ichigo's lap. Not letting his request drop, Ichigo pushed the bag away like it was something disgusting.

"We're not leaving without our cleaver." He said sternly.

"Fine," the Espada said, annoyed. "I'll send a servant to get it with you." He didn't feel like arguing and he needed the boy to leave. He didn't want to have to convince him again.

"Go to your family." Szayel demanded one last time as he watched the boy walk off. He could only hope that Ichigo went to his family like Aizen requested. Or perhaps he could hope Aizen would not track the boy with the collar and see where he had gone.

As promised the Fracción opened the door for Ichigo to step inside his bleak room. Zangetsu lay on his bed, untouched. His cleaver was heavy on his back and Ichigo couldn't help but to hunch forward a bit as he carried it, no matter how comforting the gently humming, friendly power it emitted was.

Still, its buzzing feeling pushed some of the eating agony inside him away, making the emptiness in his body a little easier to bear. Zangetsu took some of the heavy burden away from him once more.

Being lead outside by the lean looking Fracción, the sun shone brightly and Ichigo greatly appreciated it. He closed his eyes for a little bit and lapped up the sunlight. It felt good. At least there were some good things in the land of the dead.

The Gargantuan first appeared as a line. A buzzing sound was heard and the line exploded into a black gaping hole, tearing the air and space into threads. Strong winds blew through Ichigo's matted orange hair and the gate stretched and ate itself wider. The black portal hung before them and Ichigo stepped into the black mouth of the portal, wondering what he was now.

Monster? Death God? Disease? A young boy filled with nothing but regret?

**End of Chapter**


	30. Eschew

**Chapter 30: Eschew**

Ichigo was back in Karakura town. The city where it all began. Where it all ended. Where he had lived and died. Where did not wish to be.

_Go back to your family._

The words of the Espada echoed in his mind. Ichigo knew better than to blame the arrancar for being sent away yet again. Aizen had forced Szayel's hand, it was obvious. But Ichigo didn't want to go back, not after what had happened and he knew would.

Quickly Ichigo moved away from the light of the sun and crouched underneath a few bushes. _Not a good hiding place._ Ichigo squeezed his eyes shut underneath the hollow mask. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly in an attempt to regain some composure. He focused on his spirit-energy, making sure he imagined it all inside of himself. Reopening his eyes, Ichigo scanned the area. No visible threat.

He flexed his arms. He bent up and down, trying to soften his stiff legs. Then he bolted.

The boy sprinted from street to street, from alley to alley, sometimes cutting across the lawns of houses.

He knew he was already panicking, already was succumbing to forced instincts he had acquired from his time on the run, before he had fled to Houce Mundo. He didn't want to go back to those times, didn't want to hide. He would rather just stay in the palace in his room out of the way and never leave as long as he was left alone. But of course nothing would ever be that easy.

At last he had been accepted by the other monsters there. He had turned to a side where everyone was like him. Monsters that killed to stay alive, that killed to quench the unimaginable horrors they had been through. It was the big line that shaped everything they did.

Yet, just because some of the Espada had held some sort of bizarre ritual feast to make him one of them, didn't mean Aizen had accepted him as one of the group. Not that Aizen really seem to care for his subordinates more than a guard cared for the fight dog at his command. He had a leach and needed little else. He didn't need trust or something as bland as friendship to get what he wanted. He didn't need acceptance to reach his goals.

Not that Ichigo thought of the arrancar as friends. Acquaintance was still the best word for it. But Ichigo still needed something similar to it, and when he finally thought the loathing of the arrancar was gone, he messed up yet again and was sent away because Aizen saw it fit to stick his fingers in Ichigo's fate because he saw the chance. The former shinigami captain was just interested in his own selfish ideals.

In the fourth lawn Ichigo ran through, a large dog with yellow eyes barked and snapped at him all the way to the board fence and briefly snaring one leg of his pants as he scrambled over the barrier. The urge to kill it was strong, but he quelled his thirst in bitter thoughts.

He was thinking too much. Grunting, Ichigo kept going. It was all coming back to him, the way he moved, the way his face strained. The feeling of being so very tired of running washed over him like a tsunami. It was like he hadn't stopped at all, it was as if the stay in Hueco Mundo, the temporary leave to his family and back again to the white desert had been nothing but a dream.

The only thing that stopped him from actually believing it had only been a dream was his deaf ear, his too exhausted body and the haunting thought that he was being eaten alive from the inside. It made it hard to breathe.

He felt dizzy at the thought. He had to stop thinking. It wasn't good. It was better to just burn the candles at both ends and not dwell on the past. But that was easier said than done.

Ichigo stopped and tried to catch his breath. His throat was hot and raw because he was sucking in great drafts of the cool, dry air through his open mouth as he ran away from imagined fear. He knew he was doing it again; imagining threats that were not there.

But he couldn't help it, he had seen so many shinigami here that his brain made them appear in every dark corner. Behind every grim window at every house, a watcher seemed to lurk with malevolent intent. Everything in view raised his suspicions. Every three loomed ominously, as if it would collapse upon him.

Karakura town was a dangerous place to be because he knew that unusually many shinigami did their duty here and too many humans would be able to see him. He did not dare to stay. Biting his lower lip with his front teeth, he forced himself to keep going and he headed out of the city, away from his home.

Running along a crowded highway, the cars honking furiously at each other from time to time, Ichigo followed the signs that led to Tokyo.

_Stay at different places… then you will harder to locate._ Rukia had once told him that. He had done so, but that had not stopped the black army from finding him. Still, he felt safer on the move.

All he could do was to hope Soul Society had slowed their search for him after finding no trace of the boy for a couple of weeks. Thought hope, or luck for that matter, had never been on his side.

He tried to speed up, to keep phase with the cars that were roaring past, but he couldn't. He felt like was wrapped in ropes, hard and tight around his ribcage. They pulled together tighter with every burning breath. Opening his uniform to let air flow inside, he coughed lightly and slowed down into jog.

_Ugh._ Where had all his stamina gone? A dizzy spell hit him and he grabbed his side. He had gotten a stitch. Ichigo frowned. He hadn't gotten that very often when he had been running before, and then he had run a whole lot further. It worried him.

He walked at a brisk phase. The haunting feeling of being followed didn't want to pass. He tried telling himself that he was at no immediate danger, but his body didn't want to listen so he was unwillingly straining himself more than necessary.

Eventually he stopped. He felt queasy again and he bent down into a crouch. Clearing his throat Ichigo sat down completely. Sitting in the verge with his legs out stretch along the pavement, he removed the sling that held his left arm close to his chest and opened his hoari fully. He removed the small bag that hung from his sash too.

Sighing, Ichigo lay down. He still felt like he had run half way across the county in one go. He stared into the blue sky and saw the white clouds move as if they too were running across the planet from an unseen enemy they only imagined.

He rested for some time, long enough to get concerned over the dizziness that didn't want to seem to pass. Wearily he massaged his eyes through the holes of his mask. Reaching back with his arm, he took the cleaver off his back, to make it easier to lie comfortably. It felt better not to have its weight on his shoulders.

Ichigo grimaced. He felt sick again. His mouth felt raw and the taste of blood grew stronger. The queasy feeling increased and before he knew it his mouth flooded with saliva. Gasping and inhaling sharply, Ichigo clutched his abdomen in a sudden stab of pain. His body curled together as sharp moans of pain escaping him.

Knowing what was to come, Ichigo struggled to sit up. Spluttering, Ichigo heaved himself up into a sitting position before a flood of saliva seemed to erupt from his mouth. The vile, transparent fluid splattered noisily against the pavement. Awful gastric acid sprayed up into his chest. He hacked and coughed and half screamed.

The acid burned and Ichigo curled together as he gasped for air that only seemed to intensify the scorching feeling. Desperately he twisted on the ground and unthinkingly he rolled out on to the road. Panicking when he realized where he was, he rushed to his feet. But he didn't manage to get out of the way before the side of a car rammed into him.

Screaming in both horror and agony Ichigo scrambled, limped and crawled out of the way. At the same time he fought another wave of vomit that came without mercy. Ichigo grabbed at his side, cradled the hurt flesh with his entire arm. With a massive effort he rolled into the verge of the road and unwillingly kept going into the ditch that followed.

Spinning down the small slope Ichigo landed face down and wondered why he hadn't fainted yet. Hacking furiously and trying to breathe without being able to turn around and lie on his back, saliva dribbled down his lips and through the teeth of his mask and onto the soil and grass. He breathed hard and fast, his ribs protesting madly every time he inhaled. The dry heaves seemed to hurt his wracked his body a heck of a lot more than throwing up did. Black spots dotted his vision.

Small, pitiful sounds escaped him and Ichigo wondered if he dunked his head hard enough of on the sharp rocks that seemed keen on drilling into his skull, fate would be kind enough to let him escape his suffering for just one moment.

A low groan escaped his lips when he shifted and a throb of pain made his insides clench. He wasn't sure if his ribs were bruised or busted. He hoped it was the former and that he wouldn't have a punctured lung to contend with in the next few days.

Every time he gagged and retched, his chest burned, his ribs protested, his throat felt like it was rasped with sandpaper and his headache increased exponentially. Groaning again, Ichigo tried to lie in a way that didn't hurt _too_ much.

Ichigo pulled his knees up to his chest and curled his arm across them in a fetal position. Shamefully enough the pain scared him. He wasn't healing and it bothered him. It wasn't the same as a stab wound.

This pain he felt was more like he was being crushed. His ribs had to be broken. The pain spread from his chest and crawled into the back of the neck and abdomen. It radiated into the legs and his white arm. His body felt weak and loose-jointed.

His grip on his legs loosened and he couldn't keep them bent with strength alone. He tried to find another position that could work without having to hyperventilate to subdue the pain, but it wasn't easy. But the throb faded quickly and Ichigo blinked wearily. His eyelids felt heavy and it was as if he wasn't quite there. His shaking increased, with both fear and cold. He was on the brink of fainting.

Not liking the idea of lying completely exposed while being unconscious, Ichigo furiously sat up in a desperate to locate a place where he could conceal himself a little. He saw nothing that made any sense through his blurry and swaying eyesight. With a moan Ichigo collapsed back into the rocks and darkness consumed him.

At first his body lay limp, not a single twitch or sign of life except for a few, swallow and wheezing breaths. Eventually his fainted state meshed into an uneasy sleep.

His face strained from pain even as he slept. He was caught in a nightmare, trapped, tormented and unable to wake up. His body was covered in sweat and dirt stuck to his skin and clothes. It clung to his matted hair like dandruff. He twisted, moaned loudly and turned uneasily from the fevered dreams. Rolling over, dirt flew into his lungs from a sharp breath when something caught him in the dream.

Harshly he woke up, eyes wide and panicked. He coughed wildly. It took a while for the fit to pass, but when it finally did his body eased limply against the hard ground. He stopped shivering and his breathing evened out.

Doing his best to heave himself up into a sitting position, Ichigo wearily adjusted his uniform and closed he zipper. He swallowed dryly. He was oddly pleased at the sensation of being dehydrated, since that meant he wouldn't vomit for a while.

Idly he watched the cars drive by in the beautiful light of the sunrise. The sun slowly made its way up over the rim of the ditch he sat in, to meet with his masked face. He had slept through the entire night, yet he felt like had only rested for a few minutes.

Ichigo knew he couldn't sit at the high way for much longer. Grunting, he attempted to stand shakily to his feet, but his legs collapsed out from under him and he hit the ground with a dull thud. Letting out a pained whine, he decided it was not a good idea to get up just yet. He hadn't slept very well after all.

He leaned back on his white arm behind him after brushing some annoying rocks away. The sun warmed his skin and he relaxed.

Looking around, Ichigo spotted his small bag, which had fallen into the ditch as well. Leaning over to grab it, he tied it to onto the sash again. Grunting, he gave standing another try. He staggered a little before finding his footing and straightened as much as his pained body would allow; which wasn't all that much.

Forcing himself up further, he straightened enough to allow himself to tie his left arm back into his homemade sling. It was a bit of a battle because his arm only flayed around. Annoyingly, Ichigo grunted and shoved into the sling and tightened it until his arm lay bent and flat against his chest, not caring if it would hurt to lay the way it did if he had had any feeling. He wasn't in the mood to be careful with it.

With a little effort Ichigo climbed up the verge, grabbing the small turfs of grass for help. He heaved himself up on to the pavement. Brushing off his clothes from dirt, Ichigo saw his cleaver lying in the verge. Some of the cloth around it had loosened and waved in the wind.

He walked over to it and picked it up. "Sorry Zangetsu… Didn't mean to leave you." He mumbled and placed it on his back where it hocked onto the red chain on its own.

Turning around Ichigo resumed his travels toward Tokyo, but this time not by foot. Standing along the road, Ichigo watched the cars that drove by and timed his jump to land on the roof of a range rover. But he didn't jump high enough and ended up hanging on the side with a loose grip on the rail on top of the car. Fighting against both the wind, speed and the fact that other cars were driving by very closely, Ichigo struggled before he managed to find a foothold on the side of the car.

His ribcage burned so intensely at the stain that Ichigo almost had to let go. His face worked to keep a scream in. Heaving, he pulled himself up the best he could and pushed with his feet against the slippery glass of the car. With great effort he managed to get up on the roof.

Lying flat against the steel, Ichigo was glad that the brightly shining people inside couldn't see him. They would have freaked pretty bad if they had. Sitting up properly on the roof, Indian style, while keeping a steady grip on the rail, Ichigo just managed to see that the car turned onto the road that headed for the large capital city. It sped up, but remained within the speed limit. Blasting past slower moving vehicles, Ichigo could see the skyscrapers approach.

The city grew bigger and after twenty minutes or so he was inside it. Standing up while still holding onto the chrome railing, Ichigo waited for the car to slow down and stop at a red light and jumped off. Yelping at the wave of pain that surged through him when he landed, he walked up onto the walkway.

The city was cramped. It was a sea of light from all the humans. He made sure to advert his eyes from the flowing crowd of Tokyo citizens. The glow was as disturbing now as it had always been and a constant reminder that he could only watch life as he had none of his own. He was just thief that stole what wasn't his. He bit his lower lip uncertainly under his mask. He guessed he had to try and find a place where there weren't so many humans or he would strike to kill whenever he wanted to or not.

Walking over the crosswalk at the green light he did his best to snake between and avoid the humans. He tried to find a street that wasn't crowded. That proved harder than he thought.

Keeping a firm eye on the ground and moving past more people, Ichigo spotted a small corner between a fence to a restaurant and a trashcan. An empty place where no one was likely to tread. There he crawled together into as much of ball as he could without causing the pain in his ribs to flare up even more.

Un-summoning his hollow mask, he opened the bag on his hip and retrieved a small steel container. He put it on the ground between his legs and ate the disgusting mix of fluids and soggy content with his hand. The monster that lived in his chest cowered under its effects and was stilled a little for now.

Putting the food back into the bag, leaning against the broad green fence that held the small dinner area for the restaurant, Ichigo scanned the area and made sure the roof stops were clear before he resumed walking. An old habit.

Following the road while clutching his side, Ichigo knew that being this close to humans was getting the better of him, despite having just eaten. He would have to eat a hell of a lot more if his urges were going quiet down completely with this much _prey _nearby. He felt like he was a disguised wolf among sheep he couldn't kill because the farmer with the shotgun was standing at the fence.

Again he didn't really know where to head after arriving in the large city, but he kept moving on the decision that he had to get away from the humans. Maybe it was stupid for him to be here, with so many temptations to make him loose his cover. But he reminded himself that he would he harder to locate.

He didn't dare to run on the roofs of the lower houses, knowing he was easier to spot by a shinigami from there. He liked walking anyway, because it made him feel a little more human.

It also felt good to be back to something more civilized, since Las Notches seemed so ancient everywhere. It looked more like a fortress from the nine hundredth century than something modern.

Walking near the walls in an attempt to not bump into anyone, Ichigo made his way to the more quiet areas. He found an alley full of disposed scrap that lay forgotten. Not expecting any human or animal to come near anytime soon, he sat down on a cardboard box that was sturdy enough to hold him. He tried to find a position that didn't hurt too much and carefully he trailed his hand over his face and massaged his temples.

His eyes widened under his hand and he quickly removed it. The skin near his temples had felt odd. Really odd. Ichigo's face straightened and carefully he reached up to touch the side of his face again.

It felt like something moved unevenly underneath the skin. Its consistency was hard, but still a little soft at some places. The disease spread to the front of the cheekbone and if he felt further it travelled down his jaw. It disappeared into his hair and scalp as well. It had spread so much further since he had left Las Notches, or it had just swelled and hardened enough underneath the skin for him to feel it.

Ichigo swallowed thick phlegm and tried to regain composure. It was not a good idea to panic. But of course the more he thought about _not_ panicking, the faster he seemed to lose focus.

_Wrong, wrong, get it off, now, please. Help, please. Get it off, off, off._

With a shaking hand he gripped the handle of his cleaver, the cloth that enwrapped the steel feeling sturdy against his hard, white skin. The white fabric around it left it like a harsh wind had blown it off.

The steel looked new and the steady pulse it emitted was comforting. His weapon was a friend that never left, no matter how hard the times ahead were. It didn't lie or betray, or scheme behind his back. He trusted it.

Slowly it was moved toward his face and the sharp side rested against his cheek. Carefully he scraped his massive cleaver over the skin as if he was shaving. His hand was shaking. Ichigo took a deep breath and slowly let it out in an attempt to stabilize his hand.

He squeezed his eyes together when the sharp edge cut into his skin and the growth underneath. If he could bleed, blood would have flown down his cheek.

Gritting his teeth and holding back a pained moan he cut the blade deeper and pushed further until he could feel Zangetsu graze his ear. There he stopped, unable to cut more, afraid to lose his earlobe. With a shaking twitch and a strangled bleat he threw his cleaver away, his entire body shaking in pain and fright.

Moving up to carefully touch at his ear, Ichigo could feel the scrap of flesh hanging from the side of his face. He grabbed the tissue, tore off his face and threw it at the ground in front of himself. Small sounds of horror escaped him as his fingers hovered over the self-inflicted wound.

Staring at the meat on the ground he could see the yellow _thing_ lie dead along with bits of his skin. He grabbed at his ear to make sure that it was still there. He felt a light gash in it that stung horribly. He hissed through his clenched teeth.

Curling together, Ichigo wondered if it had really been such a good idea to cut it off. He didn't want to think about how ugly scar the wound would become.

Wishing for a mirror Ichigo rose on unstable feet, closed his eyes and tried to think of something else but the pain, but nothing else occurred for him to think about. Frowning, he decided to try and find something that had a reflective surface.

Searching around in the scrap that lay in disorganized heaps, he found a piece of metal. He wasn't very careful with it and scratched it pretty good with his claws before he managed to get it loose from the pieces of junk it was stuck in.

He tried to angle it in front of himself to get a look at his face, but all he managed to see was a blurry blob. Frustrated, he threw it away and watched it fall and clatter to the ground from the piece of useless wood it had landed on.

Turning around on his heel and flopping down on the cardboard box again without it falling together, he felt stupid when he realized that Zangetsu was a bit more ideal to use. He grabbed his cleaver again, coughing and wheezing like an old man when he bent down. Ichigo looked into Zangetsu's black surface that was as clear as calm water.

The wound was worse than Ichigo had thought. It looked like he had scraped the bone and a lot of flesh was exposed. It was red, irritated and seemed to be on its way to swell severely. Yellow areas were already starting to appear. Some places looked sick and infected. It didn't want to heal any more than his busted ribs.

Slowly Ichigo tried to open his mouth but he didn't get far before he had to clamp it shut again from stinging pain. He sat still and tried not to touch the wound. It was hard and he ended up fiddling with the hollow collar around his neck instead.

He tugged and clawed at it. The thick thing was getting the better of him and he pulled at it until tears clouded his vision from desperation. He wanted it gone.

It if anything was hindering him from breathing properly, it was the hollow collar. The chocker had been around his throat for so long and constantly it reminded that he was far from free. He hated it, loathed it with his entire being.

He pulled and tore at it until red puncture marks and small scrape wounds appeared around his neck from his fumbling claws. But he barely felt that pain because the other injures hurt far worse.

The thought of trying to cut it off with his cleaver crossed his mind but he mentally shoved it away, not daring to try another stunt similar to what he had just done.

With an immense effort of sheer willpower Ichigo pulled his hand away and stopped his lower lip from quivering. Quickly he rose from the ground and walked off knowing full well that being on the move would let his thoughts wander more easily.

Stomping off in an unplanned direction, he moved on ward through the city until it got dark. He kept away from the still crowded streets and neighborhoods. He felt out of place. He had no place to go to or belong to; all he had was the company of a sword and a disease to drive him.

He felt miserable and lonely. He felt hopeless and like a waste of breath. His body shook in loath for himself and the world that ignored him and did nothing for him. His thoughts drowned in dark bitterness. Trying not to succumb to his self-contempt, he started searching for shelter.

In time he crossed yet another avenue that was devoid of traffic at that later hour. The city had turned cool and Ichigo hurried along the entrance walk of an apartment complex. Maybe it was a hotel. He hadn't really noted what it was, but figured it was a hotel when he went through the gate to the courtyard and saw that it was centered by a swimming pool.

Perhaps there was a room where he could force the lock and hide. He needed to find a place where he could get proper rest for his wounds to heal a little better.

To Ichigo's relief, he did find a laundry room after having walked around the large complex. The hinges were stiff, but they worked without too much noise after he had broken the lock. Carefully he stepped inside. The machines stood silent in perfect rows as he walked past them in the deep darkness.

The room was a well of shadows, oil-black and pooled deep. There was a faint ash-gray light outlines the windows but it provided no illumination to the room. There was no life to shine here. Ichigo appreciated it.

He headed to the back and removed a linen basket that stood squashed in the narrow space between a washing machine and the wall. There was just enough room for him to squeeze together if he removed Zangetsu from his back. Doing so, he pushed himself back first into the narrow space and held his cleaver in his arms.

Feeling somewhat safe in the silence from his imagined fears, Ichigo opened his small bag. Flipping the lid off one of the medicine bottles inside it, he held the small white pill in his palm. For some reason just the sight of it calmed him.

Grimly he realized that he couldn't swallow the pill with his mouth. If he did, it would just fall into his lungs where he sure as hell didn't want it.

Holding the pill against the palm of his hand with his pinky and ring finger, he pulled down the zipper of his uniform with his free ones. He reviled his hole and did his best to look inside it. A rush of worry swept over him as he could see his left lung bend oddly at tree places. It was a dent that looked like it was about to burst open at any moment.

He looked away, prayed that his lungs wouldn't puncture during the night, bit his lip and focused at the task at hand. Carefully he felt for the swallowing path.

The sensation was creepy to say the least, but he kept fiddling until had found the right place and pushed the pill inside the soft path. Instinctively he swallowed even if it wouldn't help. The pill lay still on the wet flesh.

Removing his hand and exhaling a shaky breath, Ichigo tried to get a better view of his lungs in the cramped area. He had to be as he didn't want to cut himself with his talons. Sweat beaded his skin before he finally managed to push it down deeply enough to for the muscle contraction to do the rest.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Ichigo tried to shake of the uncomfortable feeling of fingers inside his own lungs. He was glad that the pain from his busted ribs hadn't flared up too much and that the entire left side of his face had went numb. He huddled together and tried to get some needed sleep.

His sleep was dreamless and empty and he only got to rest for four uncomfortable hours before he was started awake.

Ichigo stuttered nosily when the hard plastic bottom of a white linen basket dunked into his head. Instinctively he pushed it away before he realized where he was and what was hitting him. Someone, a lady to be exact, was trying to put the basket back where it belonged. But she couldn't get it to fit between the wall and the washing machine anymore.

The woman did a surprised sound and frowned suspiciously at the seemingly empty place. Putting the basked aside, she reached down to feel the wall if anything was in the way. This time she did more than a small noise.

Ichigo had intended to climb up onto the machines and out of the way, but he didn't manage to get to his feet in the narrow space before her hand struck his face. The woman screamed when she felt something hard and cold she couldn't see.

Not really knowing what to do, Ichigo shoved the woman away and jumped up from the tight corner. He took large steps on the machines until he had reached the door. Quickly he wrenched it open and headed out, ignoring the fact that the woman inside would see it open and close on its own. No one would believe her anyways when she would claim that the laundry room of the hotel was haunted.

Glad that he had managed do stop himself from slaughtering the woman, Ichigo leaned against a wall for support when he was at least four blocks away from the hotel complex. He wondered how he could have been so stupid to try at sleep at a more civilized place than the streets or a rundown building.

He headed east, along a quiet residential area with yellow houses where not many seemed to be home at the time, which he appreciated. Walking along empty streets and watching the wind blow life into the stiff threes, Ichigo felt at loss. He still didn't know what to do or where to go.

It felt like a bad idea just to wander, his entire being was against it since all it did was to bring back bad memories. Coughing lightly, Ichigo sat down on a bench. He tried to stretch out a little, since he had walked around half bent, the broken ribs preventing him from walking normally. Pain seared through his side.

"Ow, ow, ow…" Ichigo whined and lay down.

Lying on his back with his legs bent and both his arms on his chest, Ichigo tired to rest. He still felt loose-jointed and weak again. The little sleep he had gotten in the laundry room seemed to have done nothing good.

As he lay there, the wind picked up as the day went on. Clouds gathered in the sky and spoke of a coming storm. It would rain soon.

A strong breeze carried leaves and dust with it, starling Ichigo awake from his light slumber when a leaf landed on his face and got caught in the sharp teeth of the mask. Annoyed by yet another rude awakening, Ichigo sat up, crossed his arms and glared at nothing. He massaged his eyes gently.

Still feeling sick and a bitter taste rose in his mouth, Ichigo rose from the bench. He stretched before moving together again into a less painful posture. He started limping in the same direction he had walked before but he didn't get far before a much desired sent gained his full attention.

The sweet smell of spilled blood glued its way into his nose, his eyes fluttering shut for a mere second just to feel a shiver go down his spine as gruesome thoughts of tearing their flesh flashed in his mind.

It was as if his brain had an unstoppable chemical reaction. It was unavoidable and Ichigo felt himself move without really wanting to and the monster within broke a bar of its cage. Ichigo cringed, pulled himself together and squeezed his eyes shut. _No._

He knew it was a trap to go there. The smell was too great to be an ordinary human and it mingled with something foul. Something ugly and unclean. Another hollow. He leaned against the side of a larger building for support, scraping his shoulder along it as he kept going forward. Stopping before the wall ended, Ichigo peered over the edge with one eye.

A hollow slashed out with large hands at a glowing shinigami. The massive glow the reaper emitted was strong enough to draw any hollow close enough to kill. The male shinigami stuck with his small blade several times at the monster he fought, yet he struggled against the hollow. The small wounds he inflicted when he missed the mask were not enough to slow the beast down. Ichigo wondered if it was a rookie and the thought to kill the man himself crossed his mind.

But then suddenly the shinigami shouted something and violent kidõ blasted out of his hands. It ensnared the hollow, trapping its legs so it fell to the ground screaming in both fear and anger. Unable to watch when the reaper moved to cleave the mask Ichigo quickly stepped back.

He dared not to stay. He was too weak with busted ribs to fight someone like that fast enough to kill him before he could alert Soul Society, let alone out run the man if he needed to. He had never been good against kidõ and didn't want to go up against someone that seemed to have specialised in it.

Turning around, Ichigo went in another direction, away from the residential area. He half ran, afraid that more shinigami might be near as back up if one was injured. He was out of breath after about half an hour of slow running.

He clutched his side, his lungs burning again from both a stitch and his broken ribs. Still he wasn't healing and the numb pain in his face was getting aggressive again. He had acquired an involuntary limp as the pain radiated into his hip every time he took a step.

He needed to kill. Had to kill. _Wanted_ to kill.

The urge set him a flame. He couldn't do anything but follow his instinct. He wanted to burn and writhe in ecstasy more than ever when the flames of desire scorched through his mind so violently that he started running despite his injuries. In some sort of half limping, distorted run Ichigo sped off to wherever his instincts would lead him. The mask smeared out over his face and hardened once more.

But his will hadn't lost everything just yet, even if it was so hard to maintain even a little self control. He knew he couldn't kill a human or turn around and slay the shinigami. No matter how much he wanted to. Humans were a big no because he was sure that if he just as much as scratched a human and licked at the wound, Soul Society would find him. He knew he was paranoid, but there was no way he was going to risk it.

Keeping a steady, slow phase, he travelled further and further away from the noisy parts of the city. Every step was a battle against himself and he didn't know where he was when he looked up. But the air was getting filthy and strong disgusting stenches tormented his sensitive smell. The sent reminded him of trash and Ichigo wondered if he was getting near a dump. But it didn't matter because the strong honey smell from humans was fainter here and Ichigo appreciated it. Moving down into what resembled a construction area, he limped on.

But the dark horror that boiled and writhed inside of him wasn't glad about it. Ichigo was having a hard time concentrating and he was struggling against involuntary twitches. The monster inside him was rattling its rusty, breaking cage. But before it could smash and tear down the bars, Ichigo saw small light specks swarming around in colourless mud. They moved back and forth, to the left and to the right. 

Desperately he grabbed for the blobs of light. But they were fast and scattered all around. Clawing after the animals, Ichigo slipped in the mud and landed with a painful smack chest first. An animalistic scream of searing pain left him as he twisted in the slippery slope. He hacked on dirt and filth and heaved himself up from the ground with a lot of effort.

His body curled together in pain and he hissed through his teeth. He growled angrily and cradled his side. He _had _to kill. It didn't matter if it were filthy rats full of tapeworm.

Taking a few deep breaths, Ichigo remained still until the rats seemed to be oblivious to his presence. The dirt and noise moving from him falling had made them scatter. They seemed unaware of his ghostly form, despite being animals. Most dogs seemed to notice and know what he was.

The boy watched a rat slowly move closer and eating the small grass that grew in the filth. His clawed hand darted out and hit its target. Talons dug deep into the rat's intestines and while it still screamed Ichigo sank his teeth into the squirming flesh. Blood poured out of the small animal and flowed over his black, discoloured tongue and made him shudder.

It wasn't much of a sensation, but he had been without blood for so long that just the faintest reminder of it made him starve for more. He pushed the entire rat into his mouth as deep as possible and crushed it between his jaws, squeezing out as much blood as he could. The mingled taste of organs and dirty fur was vile, but the bloods sweet taste was strong enough to wash over it.

He swallowed greedily until no more crimson liquid would come from the animal and pulled it out of his mouth by its tail. Scraping off fur from his tongue against his teeth, Ichigo threw the dead rat away and wiped himself off with the back of his sleeve.

It wasn't long until he lunged forward again and managed to catch another rat that he quickly devoured. The blood of the rats flowed out over his mask and painted the striped pattern over it once more. He bit and tore at the animals until his ribs painfully smacked back into place. It felt like he received another blow to his chest and Ichigo nearly bit off his tongue.

Gasping loudly, Ichigo tried to focus in his high delirium. It was hard and he nearly choked on a brown rat before pulling it out with a gag and a cough.

He had made a mess; at least six mutilated rats were lying in the mud. But he couldn't bring himself to care. He felt a lot better now. His body was still marred with blue and black marks from where the car hit him and his face was still swollen, but the lingering throb in his side had subsided greatly.

Making his way up from the slippery and muddy slope he headed back into the city. The storm had arrived; harsh winds and grey needles of rain stitching a portentous mood into the day. Ichigo looked for shelter, but couldn't find any that weren't occupied by humans. He was completely soaked. He huddled together under a large Japanese black pine. The wind ripped ruthlessly at both his cloth and hair like it was the hands of Satan trying to pull him down to the icy Hell bellow.

Feeling miserable and trying not to let the wind slip in below his clothes, Ichigo stared emptily ahead. He felt numb and disconnected. That was what he was anyways; lost on the other side of a vast, empty rift that was between him and everything else.

He didn't want to go back to his family and see just how large it was and how far he had to sail to get to the other side. He didn't want to have to pass the ocean of his own tears. He would drown there when the howling winds broke his mast. The silent waves would consume him and he would never return.

Curling his arm around himself Ichigo rubbed his numb one in a try to get some warmth into his body. Silently he wondered if his toes had fallen off because he couldn't feel them anymore. His fingers were becoming numb and he could swear his lips were turning blue underneath his mask.

Maybe he was getting a cold, or a fever, he didn't know, but he didn't feel so good anymore. He moved a hand over his mask and removed it, the white bits falling off is face like large dandruff.

Carefully he grazed his cheekbone. The flesh and skin around it was still severely swollen and his left eye was starting to puff up. He fingered lightly at it and to his grim surprise could he feel the yellowness creeping back onto his face from the wound. Sometimes there was a spiky, crawling feeling when he turned his head and felt the tug of new alien skin.

His face twisted in worry again. At least what little that could, the swollen areas didn't want to move. Grabbing at the cloth that concealed his hollow hole, Ichigo could feel his chest clench. The hole ate itself a little wider. Wider and wider until he would be ripped apart and die. Ichigo swallowed uneasily and blinked rain water out of his eyes. Or maybe it was tears, he couldn't tell.

His empty gaze watched the water land on the small rocks at his feet. The sound of the branches moving in the wind of the pine tree above him was memorising and he tried to focus on the sound. But of course, listening to anything was a grim reminder that he could only hear from one ear.

Moving his white hand to hold over his functioning right ear, he tried to shut all sounds out. But the rain that kept hitting his face made the awful weather and his circumstances hard to ignore. But he didn't sit cramped together for long until his inner demon called out.

'_Hey! Get in here.'_ Shirosaki sounded serious. Even so, Ichigo didn't bother to listen, too busy rocking back and froth slowly and trying not to drown in miserable thoughts.

'_Ch'!'_ The hollow huffed. _'__Stop sulking and get in here!'_ Cold hands started to pull his soul down into himself. Grimacing, Ichigo focused on blue skyscrapers before the hollow could drag him down completely. He met with the motel eyes of the white alter ego of his, who didn't look too happy.

"What is it…?" Ichigo asked; eyes dull and not all too interested. Ichigo knew from experience that the hollow didn't call him inside his own soul to tell good news.

Shirosaki didn't need to tell Ichigo to follow. Down, down, down the buildings they went, through thicker rain than on the outside. They ran in worried silence until the small, crudely built skyscrapers came into view.

However it wasn't until they had jumped past at least five of them that Shirosaki stopped so abruptly Ichigo ran into him. The hollow sneered and pushed Ichigo away, who only growled. "Look."

A scrawny looking building stood where the hollow pointed, ramming its way out of the asphalt. It was consumed and covered in the yellow abomination. The veins had grown inside and all over the entire building, covering it like a climbing root.

Before Ichigo had the change to say anything, the hollow spoke again.

"It's growing faster the more you fuck up the body and I hadn't even noticed that it had started consuming this building as well. I was busy over there." Shirosaki pointed over his back with his thumb at another building behind them.

"I thought the meds were slowing it down."

"I think they are, but it's this fast when it's slowed down." The hollow sounded defeated and looked exhausted. "I've…" The hollow grunted. "…I haven't taken any breaks and I can't keep up with it."

Shirosaki sounded like he had just admitted his greatest weakness and most embarrassing truth. He, the inner demon that never backed down or admitted defeat, never let himself get talked down or gave up, for the first time said he couldn't do it. It bothered Ichigo a whole lot more than he thought it would have. He squirmed uncomfortably and both of the two boys turned their back to each other.

"It's growing that fast?" Ichigo wanted to shout, but held himself back.

"Yes." Shirosaki simply answered. "The weaker we get the faster it grows."

Ichigo moved his hand thought his hair in a frustrated manner. He couldn't stay in here and fight alongside the hollow, even if it was the right thing to do, because what would happen to his body then? It couldn't just lie in the mud for eternity, and if it did, it certainly would get weaker.

"Are you feeling sick too?" The orange haired teen asked, still not looking at his alter ego.

"Of course, but I'm not whining as much as you are." He grinned for a second, but it was a pale smile, barren of amusement. "Look, we're in a big pile of shit and you don't have the shoes for it."

Ichigo scowled. "And you do?"

"It's not my shoes that are getting dirty, it's yours." The hollow sneered and crossed his arms.

"You just said you weren't feeling too great either."

"Whatever." Shirosaki growled and kicked at a puddle of water.

"What are we going to do? We need help with this…" Ichigo mumbled lowly, not wanting to keep arguing with the hollow. "We can't heal this away. It's consuming us no matter what we do."

The inner hollow gritted his teeth. "Guess we better do what the Espada told us."

"I don't want tog to there, you know that! And what about Karin, Yuzu and dad? I don't want to hurt them."

"You're dad can protect himself if we go loco."

"But what can he do? Just because he's a doctor and shinigami doesn't mean he can help. Besides, it came from Menos Forest. I don't think he's much of a specialist of that area." Ichigo sneered, sounding annoyed, not liking the conversation.

"The point of going there isn't to have him heal us, you know that." Shirosaki turned around and lifted his eyebrows at Ichigo.

Ichigo knew what the hollow was talking about. To go there wasn't for asking for help as much as it was to tell his father he might not return anymore, to say that he might be gone for real soon. "Yeah…" He swallowed uneasily and the wind increased in strength. "They have the right to know…"

"Guess so. I wouldn't bother with it, but you're still the King. And you always do unnecessary things."

"Shut up." There was no strength beneath his words. "I do what I want."

"Not really." Shirosaki countered and eyed Ichigo's large hollow collar. Unwillingly Ichigo tugged at it.

"Well I can't get the fucking thing off!"

"Tsk!" Shirosaki sneered, moved forward and grabbed the sturdy edge of the collar and pulled. Ichigo neck and head jutted forward and his skull almost collided with the hollows.

"Watch it!" Ichigo barked but didn't move away.

Shirosaki ignored the complaint and tried to cut at the edge with his own claws. He held one side and Ichigo next to his and they tried to bend the strange leather material. But it wouldn't yield to the strain or their sharp claws.

Frowning, Shirosaki dug his fingers deeper in under the broad collar and pulled again. But his hand had reached too far, his talons pushing into the mouths that covered the inside of it. Shirosaki's hand shot out and instinctively he stepped away, surprised at the sudden intense pain.

Ichigo screamed and fell to the ground, writhing. His eye were wide and his pupils contracted with pain as the collar drained the life out of him when all the mouths inside bit him violently.

It only lasted for a few seconds, but it was enough to leave Ichigo drained and exhausted.

"I hate it Shiro… I hate… hate it so fucking much…" He breathed in a defeated voice. He moved to lie on his stomach and heaved himself up into a sitting position. He groaned and massaged his stinging temples.

Shirosaki plopped down next to him, resting his chin in one hand. His normally white hair looked light grey from the water plastering it to his head.

"Maybe…" Ichigo swallowed dryly. "Maybe dad can get it off…"

The inner hollow gave off a stiff, short laugh. "I don't think so."

"Its worth a shot…" Ichigo mumbled more to himself than to Shirosaki. "I'll just rest a bit first."

"Alright. Whatever." The hollow said and flexed his hand that seemed to want to move properly again. "I'll be down at the bottom cutting some weed."

"Yeah…"

He watched Shirosaki get up and walk away. The hollow's frame seemed tired and exhausted. The cleaver in his grip seemed to be getting heavy for him too. The massive chunk of steel wasn't light weighted to say the least.

Returning to reality, Ichigo sighed. His body lay stiffly face down in the mud, apparently having fallen over when the muscles weren't controlled anymore. He got up into a sitting position and smeared his face clean with the sleeve of his arm.

Still he wasn't convinced going back actually was the best call, but perhaps if he said his goodbyes, drowning in an attempt to cross his sea black wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe being together with his family before the end would make the burden a little easier to bear. It was better than avoiding the problem.

Reluctantly Ichigo got up and headed towards the place he didn't want to be.

**End of chapter**


	31. Back to your family

**Chapter 31: Back to your family**

Once more Ichigo found himself heading for the place that had once been his safe heaven, but no longer was. Nothing was a safe anymore and probably never would be. Taking long, uneasy steps, Ichigo saw the Kurosaki clinic loom closer. It was a blurry silhouette in the rain of the gloomy day.

At first he only stood outside the house in the cold wind that felt like needles to his skin. To him the house seemed haunted, but of course it wouldn't be that until he stepped inside. Demon, monster, hollow… What was the difference?

Ichigo thought of going inside through the front door, but that was too noticeable so instead he went for the window to his room and pried it open with ease, having forged a technique long ago. Silently his black boots hit the wooden floor.

The sight before him was troubling, yet he was not surprised to find his human body being kept alive with the medical ventilator once more. The machine pumped air into his body's lungs through a blue tube that disappeared somewhere among all the machines surrounding the bed.

Ichigo didn't even want to think about entering it. He wouldn't want to risk having it infected as well. Still, he felt better, now that he knew that his human body was safe. But he couldn't help but to pull away a bit of the guilt and peer at his own flesh and blood. An uncomfortable feeling of disgust arose and Ichigo grimaced. Maybe it wasn't alright at all...

After carefully removing a few hairs that lay over the closed eyes, Ichigo stepped away, left his room and silently walked down stairs.

His steps where shaky and tired, but he was quiet all the same. As he entered the kitchen he saw his father sitting at the table drinking coffee in his usual doctor's attire, apparently on duty but having no patients.

Ichigo stopped, unsure of how to approach his father. He hadn't thought the meeting would go this easy, and wasn't well prepared. What was he going to say?

His father stood, his lips slightly parted, more than shocked at his son's sudden appearance. It wasn't until it was too late that Ichigo realized that he was still wearing his hollow-mask. Figuring there was no time to hide it, he hoped it would be easier with it on, since it concealed his battered face.

"Ichigo…" Rushing past the table and almost toppling it over in his haste, Isshin embraced his son in a fierce hug. "You're alright! I've been so worried!" The hug tightened for a second before he took a step back, still holding his son's shoulders.

"Hi dad."

Isshin's his eyebrows furrowed as he took in Ichigo's appearance. Unwillingly the bone that covered Ichigo's face was making him edgy and he released his grip. He had always feared there was a mask, but hoped against it. Yet there it was, white and covered in red bloody stripes. He also couldn't help but to notice the spikes on the left shoulder and the white, clawed hand. His son looked so much more like a hollow now that it was unsettling.

"Did something happened?" The large changes and the dirty and rugged look Ichigo wore was concerning to say the least. He looked as if he had lost even more weight than last time. He seemed very twitchy and unable to relax. Isshin tried not to stare, or worry about the too rough and deep voice. Was it because of the mask his son wore?

"Yes." Ichigo said, unsure of what more to say and unzipped the small bag at his side and pulled out the folded parchment that lay inside without leaving Isshin's gaze. "We're sick."

"What…?" His father asked, his eyes widening, having expected anything but that.

"Read the document."

Ichigo was half panicking. Alarms were screaming in his head, hell-bent on not overlooking the fact that a shinigami was standing so close. One part of him was screaming at him to run, one to attack and one to just stay put. Why couldn't he just relax and talk to his father like a normal person?

"Alright." Isshin didn't really know what to make of the document, but Ichigo seemed serious enough. Holding the papers with both hands, Isshin returned to his former seat.

Ichigo removed his soul cutter and leaned it against the table. It felt good to loose the heavy strain on his shoulders and he sagged into the seat opposite Isshin. He couldn't sit very well on chair and leaned oddly to the side, his hurting body urging him to lie down and rest. But at least sitting was better than standing.

Isshin's face twisted and turned with more and more worry for each page he read. Ichigo looked away and swallowed a lump in his throat. Maybe he should never have come back and let his father believe he was alright in Las Noches instead telling him he was going to die. Let his family live with a lie…

When Isshin had finished reading, he held up the scans that had been done of his son's head by Sazyel. Ichigo hadn't known they had been inside the papers. He looked away, not wanting another remainder of the fact that there was a something growing inside his head.

Isshin looked concerned and pushed the heap of papers away from himself with a sharp frown on his bearded face. He met his son's tired eyes.

It was odd for him to look at Ichigo with the mask on; a grinning evil looking one too. Isshin couldn't quite understand why it looked like that, smiling was something his son never did. But perhaps that was exactly why it was smiling, to hide the real sad face beneath. Maybe its purpose was to replace the real with a fake.

"I've never seen anything like this." Isshin mumbled; one of his hands moving through his beard and the other one fingered at the edge of the papers. "Does it show...?" He asked carefully. "I mean, has it already-"

"Yes." Ichigo answered, interrupting Isshin to spare him the trouble of finding a good way to ask his question.

Isshin sat up a little straighter in his seat at the blunt answer and looked past his son at the wall for a brief moment to gather his thoughts. All it seemed to do however was to make the knot in his guts pull a little harder. Clearing his throat quietly he looked back at his son.

"…Can I take a look?" He folded his fingers together over the table and leaned slightly forward in a weak attempt to look professional. Isshin did nothing until he knew he had his son's cooperation. At first Ichigo only squirmed, but eventually he nodded.

"Come, let's sit in the sofa, there's more light and it's more comfortable." Isshin offered as he rose from the chair, giving Ichigo a kind smile.

Ichigo didn't answer but got up anyway and sat down in the sofa on the left side of Isshin, whom carefully leaned forward to get a closer look. However when he did, something else caught his attention; the large black collar that hung tightly around Ichigo's scrawny neck. Carefully he touched the robust surface, and grabbed at one of the steel loops that hung from it. He recognized the collar.

"Where did this come from?" he asked in a slightly demanding tone.

Ichigo turned, not expecting Isshin to ask about it. It was one of the reasons why he had come after all. "Aizen." He simply answered, not keen on telling an elaborated story. Plus, his jaw and cheek hurt terribly whenever he talked. Carefully he moved his hand over the leather, feeling the texture of it and shuddered under its unforgiving grip. "We don't know how to get this off. Whenever we try, the hollows inside awaken and consumes tons of our spirit-energy, making it impossible to remove without dying!"

"I know what that collar was made for…" Isshin almost whispered, as if he was somehow guilty. "It was an interrogation tool from long ago, used at several trails for punishment. It was one of the worst on the short list of torture devices in use that I as a captain was pledged to witness." Isshin tried not to remember the screams he had struggled so long to forget. "But it had been a tool that was rarely used and was eventually considered too cruel and primitive for our standards. It was too heartless and held no honor."

"Do you know how to get if off? Can you help us?" Ichigo asked, anticipation filling his voice.

But the silence he received was enough to make his soul sink a little deeper and he had to look away. A tremor moved through his body from loosing hope once more and he shook beyond his control. He clenched his fist and then carefully reopened it to smear his fingers over the teeth of his mask as he drew a shuddering breath.

"I'm sorry," Isshin almost chocked on the words, feeling utterly helpless. "I never saw when it was put on or removed, only when it was used. I think it's controlled with some sort of illegal Kidõ that I'm not familiar with."

_God damn it!_ Kidõ... Of course it had to be fucking Kidõ. Ichigo's hand curled together into a fist again and he felt Isshin moved uncomfortably in the sofa. A stiff silence hung over them for some time until Isshin faced his son again.

"Can I look at the…" He trailed off, unsure how to express himself.

But he didn't need to elaborate as Ichigo gave a brisk nod and faced forward, to give his father a better view. From the limited sight Isshin could see that there really had grown something out of his son's ear. However, when he brushed the blond hair away and ever so lightly touched the discolored surface, Ichigo pulled away. "Don't touch it!" He hissed.

"Sorry!" Isshin jumped slightly at the sudden outburst and held up both hands to show that he meant no harm.

"Sorry…" Ichigo echoed in a low whisper, looked away and bit his lip behind the mask. "We- I… Um… Don't touch it please…" Ichigo mumbled, unsure of what to say. "It might spread…"

Isshin didn't really now what to say either, but then he had an idea. "Just a sec," He mumbled and went to the hospital parts of his house and a few moments later he came back, sitting down on the same spot. "Will it be alright now?" He asked, holding up his hands again that were now clad in a pair of white surgical gloves.

After a bit of uncertainty Ichigo gave another nod, figuring the gloves would protect his father from getting anything dangerous on him.

Smiling softly again, Isshin moved to sit a little bit closer. What he saw, he didn't like; a twisting spiral of diseased yellow seemed to have discolored most of the skin around the left ear. Out the ear-canal some sort of equally yellow roots had grown, that drove in and out of the skin. Slowly he pushed at the boil, half expecting puss to come out. Its consistency was harder than he had expected it to be, but still a bit soft. Pushing firmer, he realized that Ichigo had to be completely deaf on that ear. No wonder Ichigo hadn't been looking at him properly, he had most probably been busy trying to hear what he had been saying.

Isshin didn't know what to make out of it. What kind of abomination could do such a thing; grow so ruthlessly into another being? He leaned back into the soft sofa and did his best to suppress a sigh of defeat. What could he do? He knew nothing of this. Had no tests, no equipment to run tests with, no assumptions to make on his own, other than from the files.

"We got infected in the desert. Went the wrong way, stumbled across it and fell for its trap…"

There was so much self loathing in the boy's voice that Isshin didn't know what to say since all he could come up with was more bad news. He had been so overjoyed to see his son again that even if Ichigo wasn't well, it was hard to grasp the seriousness of the situation. He glanced back at Ichigo and thought over his options. He hardly came up with any.

"We could go to the hospital and get help from there. But then you have to go into your human body, since the doctors won't be able to see you if you don't."

"NO! Not the body...!" Ichigo sounded as if he was afraid of it, "That will only harm it more than we already have." His voice had firm edge to it. "And by the looks of it it's even weaker than we are."

"It's in a pretty bad state, but it will become stronger if you're inside of it." Isshin sounded hopeful. He really wanted Ichigo to return to it, because being on life support wasn't good for anyone. "The longer you stay away, the more time you have to spend in rehabilitation! Your body is deteriorating more and more for every day that passes!" Isshin pleaded.

"Can't you do anything without us going back into our body?" Ichigo hoped it was possible, but looking at his father's sad expression he knew it wasn't. He didn't want to enter it. Being even more vulnerable and weak was something he didn't want to be.

"I don't have the means to treat you here Ichigo, I don't have the equipment for it. I guess I could try to get more money somehow to buy what I need... Maybe work extra night-shifts at the hospital."

Ichigo felt a stone drop in his stomach, the concept of money had completely left him, having no need for it. But then again he had only wanted to say _goodbye_, but the thought of getting help was so tempting Ichigo could not look away. Like any other person he didn't want to die when it came down to it.

"I could take a loan." Isshin continued, oblivious of Ichigo's unease. "Or use the money I saved up to help when you and your sisters move out." Ichigo stared at his feet, not sure how his father would be able to afford the equipment, and feeling bad for being the reason for it. He looked back at his father.

"We're only fifteen years old dad! We shouldn't have to make decisions like this!" His voice was at the edge of desperation. He didn't know what to do. Oddly enough Isshin's eyes widened at his outburst and then became sympathizing.

"Ichigo, you're seventeen. Your birthday was three months ago."

"What?" Ichigo stared at his dad in disbelief, who gave an uneasy smile and nodded. Had it really been that long? Ichigo squirmed in his seat, dumbfounded by the news. "So long…" The very concept of time had been erased since his time on the run and stay in Las Noches, yet he could never have imagined…

"You're my son," Isshin suddenly said, "Nothing can change that fact."

"Dad..." Ichigo said, knowing that the way his father sounded implied that he was going to say something he wouldn't like.

Isshin shifted his gaze away from his son, "There is another option..."

"What is it?" He sounded slightly hopeful.

"I…" Isshin frowned, knowing Ichigo wouldn't like his suggestion. "I have a good friend in Soul Society, we can go there and ask Unohana Retsu if she kno-"

"Are you insane!" Ichigo yelled, "They'll rather _kill_us then heal us!" He took a deep breath, his expression livid underneath the mask. "Why would a shinigami be able to help? Did you forget that we're _hollow_!" He snapped, unable to stop himself and pointed at his mask, forgetting to hide his hand.

"N- No, but-" Isshin wasn't surprised at the sudden mood-swing. He felt a bit guilty, he didn't mean it to sound like he had forgotten, he just didn't want to remind his son about it, and deny the truth for himself, because a part of him still refused to accept what his son had become. "She will understand the situation from a doctor's point of view! And that's to help those in need, no matter what!" Isshin said, trying to convince his stubborn son.

"Can you even hear yourself?" shouted Ichigo, "Why would a shinigami even consider to help a hollow? How can you know for sure that she won't betray us like all the others!" His voice grew quiet and Ichigo slumped back into the sofa. "A lot of people we used to call friends turned on us because we were a Vaizard, even before we became a hollow..."

"I'm also a shinigami, Ichigo. And I will help you as much as I can. Not all shinigami are bad." Ichigo twitched; not needing another reminder, the glowing eyes and the smell Isshin gave off enough to make him want to go mad and constantly having to shove his violent instincts aside.

"Guess you're the only one that isn't then... maybe Rukia as well..." he mumbled. "They have many reasons to kill us, dad." Ichigo kept going, but calmer. "We broke in illegally to rescue Rukia, we destroyed that giant halberd and we broke almost all of their rules. Still do, by simply existing..."

"You're really making this hard for me…" Isshin sighed and smiled bitterly.

"That's because everything always is!"

"Don't be like that!" Isshin said rather loudly but quickly lowered his voice. "Unohana can help, I'm sure of it. She's your last chance! You don't have much time." Isshin's voice was starting to hint towards desperation again; he could not do this on his own. "I only wish to help you – but I haven't seen anything like this disease before. And you being here make me think they can't help you in Las Noches either." Isshin sighed before continuing. "Please Ichigo; I don't know what else I can do."

Isshin felt as if he was asking Ichigo to go to Hell for him. He didn't want to ask it of him, but Isshin knew of no other person or place that could help. Sure, he was a doctor, but not one that treated diseases that infected the soul itself. He dealt with human bodies. Even if he started to study the disease, which he would do regardless, he would not be able to find a cure before it was too late. This was out of his league.

Ichigo stared at his legs, not wanting to meet his fathers gaze. "Just because she's a doctor doesn't mean she'll be willing to cure a hollow..." He wasn't shouting anymore, his voice low and controlled. "What makes you so sure she will help?"

"Because she owes me a few of favors from when I was still a captain..."

"...That's all?" Ichigo was a bit surprised at the stupidity of it. Why would a captain lie about something so serious just because of one or two favors from long ago?

"I'm sorry. I can't offer anything more…"

"Fine... But... but only if you come too." Ichigo gave of some sort of strangled noise, as if forcing the words out. "We don't want to go alone. Just the thought of going alone scares us..." If he went alone he would be killed on sight wouldn't he? He let out a deep breath, confessing the truth taking its toll on his soul. "We... We don't want to go there and die. We don't want to..._die_"

It was Isshin's turn to squirm in his seat. It was obvious Ichigo had a hard time admitting his fears. "I'll come with you Ichigo. I'll make sure you won't die."

"Do you promise?" Ichigo couldn't help but to ask, his voice shaking with uncertainty. He felt like he was agreeing to venture into hell and thus he desperately needed the only angel he could trust to promise him salvation or he would instantly burst into flames. He needed a single promise to hang onto like a lifeline.

"I promise."

Ichigo looked his father straight in the eyes. Isshin could swear he smiled gently beneath the mask, the skin around his eyes tilting slightly upward. Unable to stop himself Isshin put his hands on Ichigo's shoulders. Gently he squeezed the muscles there before he pulled up Ichigo into a hug. Gently Ichigo hugged back, feeling more comfort in the hug than he thought he would have. A genuine feeling of safety slowly spread in his body.

Isshin pulled back, smiled and took his son's hand, without even looking down at the sharp, unfamiliar claws. But then a small frown appeared over his smile and he grabbed at Ichigo's clothes with his free hand. "Let me clean your clothes Ichigo." He offered. "They're quiet dirty and they will be dry in the morning if you let me."

"But we've got nothing else to wear."

"I'm sure you can wear some of your old clothes."

"I guess." The idea of wearing his own clothes again was pleasing. Normal clothes, that normal people wore. No stupid black and white uniform. "Want it now?"

"Yes!" Isshin almost shouted in happiness. "I'll go get you some clean clothes while you take that off." Isshin's smile widened before he left.

Ichigo was more than pleased to get rid of the uniform for a while. He went to the bathroom and filled the tub with warm, inviting water until it reached above his legs and hip.

He cleaned himself off with soap and washed his hair, the water quickly darkening from the dirt. As he carefully rubbed the soap in his side ached and he saw that his body was bloated with bruises that were tinted a gruesome purple. Small scars itched from the soap, not to mention the horrible sting from the water getting into the wound on his face.

When he was clean and done, he found a pair of jeans, socks, underwear and a t-shirt lying just outside the door of the restroom. He quickly put them on before anyone could see him undressed. The clothes didn't fit him anymore, but he didn't care. What annoyed him was the fact that the spikes on his shoulder were in the way. Pulling at the sleeve and grunting, Ichigo headed for the kitchen to get a scissor. But cutting the holes for the last spikes that were more on his back than shoulder was harder then he thought. He fought with it until his father came back into the room.

"You're making a mess!" He said humorously and took the scissor from his son. "Let me help you." All spikes soon stuck out of the shirt rather nicely and Ichigo mumbled his thanks. Before he could say anything else his father handed him a pouch arm sling. "It's better if you use this than your improvised method." His smile widened and he helped Ichigo with putting it on.

The strap that went over Ichigo's shoulder didn't dig into the muscles and it felt a lot better to use. Yet, it didn't bright his mood much; as yet again he was painfully reminded of the complete lack of feeling in it. He couldn't help but to pinch the fingertips and swallow uneasily.

But then Isshin placed his hand on his, making him look up at his father and stop his troubled thoughts from scampering. "We'll go to Urahara's tomorrow; he'll be able to open a Real World Gate so we can go to Seireitei undetected." His was voice gentle but serious.

"We're going to sneak in the back way?"

"Why of course! We don't want anyone to know we're coming now do we?" Isshin grinned childishly, obviously faking over excitement for his son's sake. "Urahara's place is more suited for creating barriers and I'm sure he's more than willing to help." Isshin said. "So go and get some rest while I'll go get things ready. You seem tired."

"Yeah… Okay." Ichigo still wasn't confident, but he wanted to stay alive and going to Soul Society seemed to be his last option. "Um… Don't tell Karin and Yuzu that we are here."

"Why?" He asked, surprised.

"Because…" Ichigo's frown deepened, trying to find a good way to say what he wanted. "Because we can't guarantee we won't do something we will regret."

"…oh, alright. I won't tell them." Isshin didn't need him to elaborate, knowing full well what Ichigo meant.

Ichigo nodded and said nothing more. Knowing that his own bed was already occupied, Ichigo headed for the guest room. His mother's old study. He stood there staring at the walls for quite a while until he managed to rise above his turmoil of emotion and remind himself that it was just a room. Nothing more. The only ghost that lingered was himself.

After placing Zangetsu against the far wall, but still within reach, he crawled up in the soft bed and tried not to think of his mother Masaki. Dark thoughts rose from deep in his mind and he wondered if her ghost had been there with him, would she hate him? Spit on him for what he had become? A pang of guilt clenched at his chest and unthinkingly Ichigo pushed at the red skin around the hole in it.

Orange hair buried itself in gray bed sheets, but rest wouldn't come as the grim thoughts kept distracting him. The dread for tomorrow seemed to fill it stomach with rocks. The doubt on whenever to follow his father was growing stronger for every passing minute. He knew running away wasn't an option anymore, but he couldn't help to consider it. Squirming in an attempt to loose the uneasy feeling he pulled the covers over his head.

But of course any kind of rest wasn't possible, not with his side hurting, his hip aching from limping for too long, his face stinging and his constant headache banging at full force against his temples, not to mention the hungry monster stirring and scarping against his mental cage.

Sound, smell and every other sensation had woken it, and it told Ichigo two souls were near, two strong, young and tasty souls. Twisting his face together Ichigo moved to lay face down, smothering it into the pillow. He tried not to breathe, not to smell his sisters sent and ignore the urges to kill. But he couldn't, not with them so near. Frustrated Ichigo sat up in the bed and smeared his finger over his mask. He ran his hand through sweaty hair as he left the bed and paced around in circles in the small room. He whimpered wordless sounds as he felt his very essence urging him to take what he needed. No. No. No!

Thoughts slurred together and his body froze, lost in a flood of hazy fear. He couldn't kill his sisters. He had to stay in this room until they left. Which would be in the morning, and that was... what? Fifteen hours away?

Control. He needed to control himself. Ichigo inhaled several deep breaths and his hand clenched into a fist at his side. His was body unable to sit still for even a second. He paced until he lost focus and collapsed upon the bed again. He lay there shaking, the honey smell still giving him seizures from the need to kill. It couldn't be so bad could it? He had resisted the urge before. Maybe if he ate some gray-goo food he would be fine... Yes!

Stuffing his mouth with it – yet being careful to only eat just what was needed and not to waste anything, he felt the violent instinct subdue. Immediately he was overcome by exhaustion so heavy that he didn't know if he had actually fallen asleep this time, or simply passed out.

It was a hand that lightly shook Ichigo that brought him back to the world and groggily he did his best to pry his heavy eyelids open. As soon as he saw something he unthinkingly lashed out, but his arm didn't move. Quickly he attacked with the other one, but it was caught by the wrist.

"Ichigo!" Shocked at the sudden assault and reviled that he had managed to catch the clawed hand in the nick of time, Isshin pressed Ichigo into the ground and away from himself, to avoid any further attacks. Isshin shouted over the viscous snarls. "It's me! Daddy! Isshin!"

Focusing, Ichigo grunted as he relaxed, realizing that the glowing eyes belong to his father and not a shinigami hell bent on assassinating him during the night. Feeling a bit stupid, Ichigo sat up straight and smeared away the goo that covered his mouth. Looking down he realized he had vomited during his sleep without waking, the mess all over his shirt and thighs. "Sorry…"

"Let's get you changed."

Having no reason to object, Ichigo got to his feet. He cleaned himself off in the bathroom, dressed into his, now clean, white uniform again, and tried not to notice how horrible he looked, despite his face being covered. He rinsed his mouth with water and was glad that the mask had long teeth so his father couldn't see his abyssal mouth beneath, black tongue and all.

Ichigo tried to seem lively and not exhausted beyond belief when he sat at the kitchen table, slouching in the chair while putting his boots on. Isshin was sitting opposite to him, yet again drinking coffee. He didn't look like he had gotten much sleep either. Ichigo was glad that the mask was a dead surface that didn't reflect the storm of emotions underneath and kept Isshin oblivious to his problems. It was good to know that Isshin couldn't see how his entire face crumbled as he concentrated hard on not thinking about how much he actually wanted to rip his father apart.

The sweet aroma that radiated off his father was faint but that and the glow from his eyes was enough made his senses go mad, the monster in his veins twisting and roaring for the life he didn't have. The beast within had been triggered by his sisters smell and wouldn't be so easily tamed now. Hell, his pupils were constantly dilated, his body constantly ready to attack when his prey showed a sign of weakness.

The bad thing about it was that Isshin was hidden in a gagi, which was meant to hide his true form from both hollow and shinigami, yet he reacted violently to it. How would he react when he passed a human on his way to Urahara's shop? The thought whip-lashed in his head and his back straightened so fast he almost pulled a muscle. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea!"

At first Isshin looked concerned, but then his face turned into a kind and reassuring one. He got up and stopped next to where Ichigo sat. "Ichigo, I knew you would be second guessing yourself, but it's the right thing to do… trust me."

"No it's not like that, well... it is, we don't want to go, but it's more like we can't go," Ichigo blurted out.

"What do you mean?" Isshin asked.

"We can't go outside! We can hardly stand being close to you, and last night... it was so hard to stay in the room!" He looked away.

Isshin frowned, not knowing how to comfort his son, he had no knowledge of what it felt like to be a hollow and when he tried to think about what it would be like, he knew he was far from anything Ichigo experienced. "Don't you have that… food? The um, you know, the food you eat sometimes?"

Ichigo squirmed. "We have some." Reluctantly Ichigo rose from his seat, knowing it was best to try and squash his urges, "We'll go eat some." He headed upstairs and reached under the bed where he had placed the small bag last night. He stared at the gray-goo, how long would it last? He had almost eaten half of it already. Sighing, Ichigo didn't bother to think about what would happen when he ran out. He would face that problem later. After a hard trial and managing to eat the vile substance, Ichigo went back to his father and did his best to shake of the nausea.

"Ready to go now?" Isshin asked and grabbed Ichigo's left shoulder and squeezed it gently. Ichigo pulled away and gave a nod. Mentally he tried to brace himself for going outside. He took several deep breaths and slowly exhaled them. Isshin got dressed and they both stepped outside. The weather clear and fresh after the heavy rain, but it was still a chilly morning and small clouds of warm air formed from Isshin's breath. Ichigo found it disturbing that even if he exhaled heavily, no wispy smoke formed.

Shuddering he focused on the ground as they walked fast toward Urahara's store. Ichigo stayed close to his father and even grabbed his arm at times to be dragged away from whatever scents that would clog his nose. Isshin himself did his best to pretend there wasn't anyone next to him, since talking or interacting with seemingly no one could bring unwanted attention.

For both Ichigo and Isshin the road to Urahara seemed long, even if they walked for twenty minutes at most. When they finally arrived, Isshin felt colder than he should have with such a thick winter jacket on and shuddered as he stepped inside. Ichigo silently followed, his feet touching the ground, but made no noise - like he wasn't even there.

The shop seemed to be deserted after the door slammed shut loudly behind them. It was cleaned and well kept, but still it seemed abandoned. "No one's here, let's go back." Ichigo mumbled and was already turning on his heel.

Isshin grabbed Ichigo by the sleeve, stopping him and dragged him with him as he stepped further into the store and slammed his hand down on the small bell on the counter. It rang pleasantly and shortly after a voice called out. "Coming!"

The grip Isshin had on Ichigo's sleeve tightened and Ichigo grunted. He wasn't going to run away even if he wanted to. He did however hide behind his father.

"Isshin! What a wonderful surprise! What brings you to my store?" Urahara greeted, coming out from the back of the store in his usually green clad clothes and wooden sandals.

"Urahara." Isshin greeted before he stepped aside, revealing Ichigo and pulling him forward a bit.

"Oh my! Ichigo!" Urahara said, his eyes filled with surprise. "It's so very nice to see you again!" He chimed and stepped closer to get a better look at the boy. He managed not to grimace at the boy's horrible appearance and made sure not to say anything. "What brings me the honor of having you here?"

Ichigo did little to acknowledge the man and didn't answer the friendly question. Isshin nudged him with his elbow, but he was just earned with a scowl that hardly showed from beneath the mask. "We need your help." Isshin finished instead of his son.

"Oh? Really?" His thrust worthy fan flipped open. "What may I do for you?"

"I need you to open a gate to Seireitei that won't be detected."

Urahara's smile disappeared and he snapped the fan close. "Come with me." He said and directed them into the living room behind the store.

"You can sit here Ichigo." The shop keeper said and placed three cups of tea on the table.

"Now we grownups are going to have a talk!" Isshin smiled at Ichigo and pulled Urahara with him, back into the store, out of hearing range.

Ichigo said nothing. He felt uncomfortable and vulnerable. He knew the owner of the store meant him no harm, shinigami or not, especially when his father was here, but that didn't make him any less nervous. Well enough Isshin seemed to understand that Ichigo wasn't keen on talking so he did that for him.

"He's ill and I'd like to take him to Unohana. She might be able to help where I can't."

Urahara glanced over at Ichigo though the gap between the doors, who sat silently on the floor next to the untouched cup of tea. The grinning mask the boy wore was a bit unnerving and Urahara couldn't understand why it looked like that of all things. He didn't think it suited, but then again the boy had changed so much in appearance since the last time he saw him, that Urahara wondered if he knew the boy at all anymore, or if he would have known it was Ichigo if Isshin hadn't been there.

"He's... well, he's not on the best of terms with the place, so I'd like to go in the back-door to so to speak." Isshin added, to clarify.

"Yes, I've heard of what happened just recently... Shame it turned out like that." He sighed, not sure what to say.

"Yeah." Isshin stared at the ground.

"I'll get a gate up for you, don't worry about that Isshin. But I'm afraid I can't do it faster than a week. Perhaps five days if I work as fast as I can." Urahara dropped the touchy subject.

"Thank you. I appreciate it." Isshin smiled. "I'll take care of him at home until then."

"Are you certain? You know what he is..." Urahara said seriously.

Isshin looked through the open doors at his son, his face tired and sad, "I know…" A deep sigh, "I'll make sure he doesn't do anything stupid." Isshin said. "I'm his father after all!" he finished with a dorky grin in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Urahara returned the smile and headed back into the room Ichigo sat in. "Alright, Ichigo. I can get you and your father into Soul Society in five days if I work fast. How does that sound?" He said happily and clapped his hands together enthusiastically.

"Why not faster?" Ichigo asked bluntly, a part of him wanting to go as soon as possible to get it over with.

"Well, you see, I need a lot of preparation to make it work, especially since Soul Society can't notice you coming."

"Oh…" Ichigo's eyes flickered back and forth over the surface of the table and then to Isshin. His father stepped up to him.

"Don't worry, its not that long to wait."

"In the mean time, you need to find something else to wear, that white is going to attract too much attention." Urahara cut in.

"But can't we help? Dad can help, right? To make it go faster." Ichigo said, ignoring what the shop keeper had just told him.

Urahara glanced over at Isshin, silently asking if that was possible by raising his eyebrows.

"Ah, well I can help after working hours…" He frowned. "Karin and Yuzu can take care of themselves and I can get a friend to check on them once we head to Soul Society." Isshin said, contemplating. "But I wasn't intending to stay in Soul Society all the time."

"What! Why not!? You can't just leave us there! You promised you'd come!"

"I can't just leave work Ichigo! I'm not supposed to be in Soul Society either; it's very risky for me too. But I will stay for a week, I can take that time off work and if more time is needed I'll visit you as often as I can. I promised I'd keep you safe didn't I?"

"Yeah you did! It must be very easy to keep that promise if you're in another world most of the time!" Ichigo shouted with minor sarcasm in his coarse voice.

Isshin's lips pulled together into a fine line. "I'm doing the best I can."

Feeling guilty from his outburst, Ichigo sighed and looked away. "We know... Sorry..."

"It's alright, don't worry." Isshin gently squeezed Ichigo's shoulders.

Ichigo pulled back a little and cleared his throat, clearly signaling that he wanted Isshin stop trying to comfort him by touching him. Isshin pulled back nervously, got up and straightened out his jacket with open palms and looked at Urahara. "We can start making the preparation right away if you wish." Urahara tried to lift the tension.

"Yeah, let's go. Come Ichigo."

**End of chapter**


	32. Fragile Sides

**Chapter 32: Fragile Sides**

All three of them headed to the hidden underground area underneath the shop. Ichigo moved away from the two shinigami and climbed onto one of the higher rocks and sat down. Isshin walked up to Urahara.

Ichigo didn't know what they were saying, but he wasn't all too interested in what they said. He didn't want to interfere. All he wanted was for them to finish the gate so he could go to Seireitei and find out if that shinigami doctor could help him. The two shinigami seemed to do some sort of chanting and setting up some odd things in the open area. He knew the gate had to be at least eighty percent Kidõ, so he couldn't do much to help.

Hours passed and not much seemed to be accomplished. In fact most of the day went by with no change at all until Isshin finally walked up to Ichigo and told him it was time to go home, that they had done that they could do for now. Ichigo only raised an eyebrow at that but decided not to ask, it had after all been a boring time with only rocks to look at, so he was more than pleased to be allowed to head back to the Kurosaki clinic.

As soon as they arrived Ichigo returned to the guest-room upstairs, feeling tired despite not having done anything all day**. **As he came into the room, he found it cold. Frowning he noticed that the window was set ajar, probably his father trying to make the lingering stench of vomit clear out.

Ichigo closed the window, having to slam it close due to creaky hinges. To his dismay he noticed his hand was shaking. Slowly he removed it from the grip of the wood and balled it into a visit in a weak attempt to make it stop rattling as he moved backward to sit down on the bed. He looked outward towards the house tops that could be seen through the window, knowing the shaking wasn't a good sign. A troubled sigh escaped him as he lay down on the bed feeling nauseated. Swallowing uneasily, Ichigo shuddered and turned to lie on his side.

He dozed off into a light sleep. His body curled into the soft madras and cover, slowly getting used to sleeping in much too soft beds again. However he was rudely woken when his sisters came home shouting loudly.

"We're hooome~!" Both girls called to their father who greeted them happily, pretending nothing had happened while they had been gone.

Karin and Yuzu headed upstairs to their shared bedroom, past the guestroom, to dump their schoolbag and change into more comfortable clothes than their school uniforms. They didn't say much to each other, tired after a long day at school.

Ichigo could smell them all too clearly, their sweet spirit energy passing his nose. But the queasiness from the before had grown stronger than the sent, despite the light sleep. He felt sick to the bone.

Being close to puking and unsure of where to go with his sisters outside, Ichigo looked around fanatically but found no bucket or anything of the kind to throw up in. He wanted to go and throw up in the toilet but he didn't dare to leave his room. He tried to restrain himself but his body protested violently. With a painful convulsion saliva lurched out of his mouth. He staggered for the door but gastric acid hit his lungs and he collapsed to the floor.

As Karin headed back downstairs, to see if there perhaps was something to eat, a sudden sound stopped her. What was that?

"Did you hear that?" Karin asked Yuzu.

"Yes... Where's it coming from?" The youngest girl pushed past her older sister and headed for her brother's room, but the only sound from there was the low hum and steady, rhythmic hissing from the ventilator. "It's not coming from there." She said and closed the door behind her.

Both remained quiet and they heard the odd, disturbing sound again. "Sounds like someone's sick." Karin said, sounding perplexed and walked towards the origin of the sound. It came from the guest room.

Ichigo heard his sisters get closer and hurried to hide in a dark corner of the room, trying to remain quiet. If they heard him, they would enter the room! He wasn't sure if he would be able to control himself if they entered the room – no door between then, blocking out most of the scent.

Karin raised her eyebrows at Yuzu and slowly opened the door. "Hello?" Karin called, the room was dark. "Anyone here?"

Slamming his hand over his mouth Ichigo tried, but failed to control his ragged breathing and pained moaning. He squeezed his eyes shut and did his very best to ignore their overwhelming smell of spirit-energy and blood. He pulled his knees up under his jaw, as if keeping the beast from leaving his body through his chest. His body shook at the effort to say put.

"Ichigo?" What was he doing here? When had he come back? And what was he doing on the floor? Concerned at his shocked or maybe even scared behaviour, she stepped closer.

Ichigo scowled and grunted at her to stay away, saliva dripping from his lips and teeth of his mask. However he failed miserably at getting his message across and she took another step, with Yuzu watching from behind her back, despite being unable to see him properly.

It was Ichigo sitting there, right? Karin couldn't help but to wonder for a split second. Some sort of strange mask was hiding his face. Why would Ichigo wear a mask of all things?

"Are you alright?"

Karin stepped closer to her brother uncertainly, reaching out a shaking hand, uncertain if he really was back. That orange hair should be his, but the odd sounds he made – was he sick?

But Ichigo's leg lashed out, shoving her away. She yelped in shock and hit Yuzu's with her back before she managed to find her balance.

"Stay away!" Ichigo shouted, vomit flying from his mouth and he clawed out at them with his monster hand.

Both girls screamed at the sound of the voice that could have belonged in a horror movie – and that claw – what was that thing? It couldn't have been their brother… could it? They didn't think as their instincts told them to leave the room as fast as possible. Whatever was in that room was dangerous.

They stepped away from the wooden door, frightened and not sure where to go. But they were relieved when they heard their father hurry upstairs, who had probably heard the slamming of the door and the girls scream. When he reached the second floor both Karin and Yuzu ran into his protective arms.

Karin nearly cried, she was afraid of the way her brother sounded – how aggressive he acted. Ichigo had been mean before, but now he was really scaring her. To Yuzu it had been only a ghostly form; blurry shape of a body with a terrifying voice.

"Shhh, shhh…" Isshin hushed them, not wanting his daughters to be frightened. He did his best to comfort them and kissed their foreheads gently. "What happened?" He asked gently, yet slightly worried, checking for injuries like the good doctor he was.

"We heard something from inside the guest room and he was sitting on the floor... acting all weird! So we went closer and asked what was wrong." she closed her eyes for a second, unable to forget the sound Ichigo made when he yelled at them. "Then he screamed at us to stay away! Then he kicked me!" Her eyes were on the verge of tears as she grabbed at her arms where Ichigo's rather rough kick had landed,

Isshin instantly grabbed Karin's arm, worried that they might be hurt.

"Dad, what's wrong with Ichigo? I'm scared – he always acts so different when he's home! What's with that! It's like he's not our brother but a complete different person!" Karin demanded, tears threatening to fill her eyes.

"Ichigo changed..." Isshin said, not exactly knowing what he should tell them. "I don't know everything myself but he's had a hard time."

"Enough to make him hurt us? That's something Ichigo would never do! Not on purpose!" Her brother might have gotten into fights a lot, but this was different. She had seen the desire for blood in his eyes. The odd reactions to blood, way back when he had just returned from being gone again, watching television together. He had taken her hand and licked on it… It had been beyond creepy.

"Look, Karin, Yuzu." Isshin said seriously. "Ichigo asked me not to tell you he's here, because he has became something that..." He had to carefully think about what to say "He can't control himself sometimes and he's afraid he'll hurt his little sisters." He tried to smile, but it didn't really work. "I can't really explain it myself, but I know he does it because he loves you two. That why he shoved you away."

"I don't buy that." Karin said stubbornly.

"Look Karin…" Isshin said, but it sounded more like begging. "I can't explain it properly. I wish I could... You'll have to ask Ichigo when he accepted what has happened to him, I can't tell you what I don't know." Isshin was deliberately avoiding the question, but he knew it wasn't his place to tell the secrets of life and death, soul society and hollows or anything related with them. He didn't want his daughters to live their lives with one foot in one world and one in another. It was hard enough for Ichigo.

"That's not good enough!" Karin shot back, angry now. "You know he will never explain!"

"Karin…" Yuzu whispered. "Maybe in time he will, just give him some time." Yuzu placed her hand on Karin's arm. But Karin only gave her a stern look saying;_'you know he won't.'_

"When do you think he can?" Yuzu asked her father. She had calmed down considerably and didn't wish to pressure her, already troubled, brother even more by asking questions.

"I don't know Yuzu, but I will make sure to tell you two when he's willing to do so!" Isshin smiled broadly. "Now don't be sad!" He got up and took his daughters by the hand. "Yuzu, why don't you and Karin go downstairs? There's some leftover pie!"

Yuzu smiled, happy to be distracted, but Karin wasn't fooled so easily. However, she decided to play along, feeling Isshin reluctance to explain. Both girls were still shaken and Isshin would have liked to follow, but the urgency to see what was wrong with Ichigo was greater. He quickly kissed both girls on their cheek, and watched them go downstairs – but not before he received an angry glare from Karin.

Once alone, Isshin turned around. Grimly he watched the door before slowly opening it and staring into the dark room. He couldn't see Ichigo at first, but when he did he saw that his son had vomited all over the floor. Perplexed he stepped inside, eyes wide with newborn worry.

"Don't come in!" Ichigo's rough voice sounded urgent. He came crawling out from a corner, his body speaking for itself of how exhausted he was. He seemed strangely panicked and Isshin couldn't help but to feel disgusted when Ichigo smeared his hand in the transparent slime that lay on the ground. He seemed to be scooping it away from Isshin. "You have to stay away!" His voice was bright with desperation. "W-we keeping throwing up this… this stuff…!"

Eyes wide with shock and surprise, Isshin took the hint and stepped away. What the hell was going on?

"The E-espada didn't say anything about the saliva but something is wrong with it, we started to have... these vomiting a-attacks all the time…! That was when we were sent away." Ichigo gasped between deep breaths and painful coughs. "We have to clean it up so you won't get anything on you." When Isshin leaned forward to take a closer look Ichigo hissed in a very un-human way. Isshin quickly stepped away again, his back against the wall. "It's dangerous!"

Getting the message, or at least some of it, Isshin left, understanding that the saliva probably had something to do with the disease. He didn't want to take any chances and closed the door behind him. His face was pale and his lips formed a thin line. No wonder Ichigo had pushed out his sisters so violently.

Isshin wanted nothing more than to go in and help, but he wasn't stupid enough to go near if was hazardous. However he did place a bucket filled with water and soap and a cleaning cloth outside the door so could Ichigo clean the mess away.

Patiently Isshin waited outside and heard the faint sound of splashing water as Ichigo cleaned the floor. It took time, much too long for Isshin's liking, but just when he was about to go inside and see if anything else had happened, the door opened slowly. Ichigo pushed himself out of the room and looked like he was about to collapse from exertion. Isshin rushed forward to take to bucket from his son.

"Noo..." Ichigo rasped, but he couldn't stop Isshin's strong grip.

"I'll take it. I'll flush it down the toilet." Isshin said, wanting his son to rest.

Ichigo tried to stop him, but his eyes were barely focused on him. All Ichigo managed to do was to pinch Isshin's arm with his claws. Gently Isshin pulled his arm away and hurried to the bathroom to quickly flush the buckets content away, wondering for how long his son could stand on his own.

Ichigo looked like he was at the verge of collapsing. He was leaning against the wall with one shoulder, his eyes closed and his legs were trembling. Isshin couldn't bring himself to be mad at him for scaring his sisters anymore.

"Ichigo..." Isshin carefully whispered and gently grabbed his son's arm.

"D-did you wash it away?" His voice was a low whisper and he swallowed uneasily. He was getting worse.

"Yes, I threw away the cloth, and cleaned the bucket with disinfectant too." Isshin smiled gently. "Come, let's go downstairs to the clinic." Getting down the stairs was a struggle for Ichigo who wanted to run for it the moment they came walking through the kitchen. His sisters were staring at him with pale faces and Ichigo decided that the floor suddenly was very interesting.

"You can sit there." Isshin said and carefully, but forcefully, pushed Ichigo towards one of the clinic beds. He wanted Ichigo away from his daughters as fast as he could, afraid that Ichigo might want to eat them.

Ichigo groaned and sat down. He rubbed his eyes carefully. "Can we have some painkillers...?"

"Of course." Isshin said, already looking thought his medical supply for something that might help. He also couldn't help but to wonder which drugs would knock Ichigo out cold. His son looked like hadn't slept for days. Sure it wasn't a human body he was treating, but some of the heavier sedatives _should_ work. Ichigo needed to rest, that much was obvious, even for untrained eyes. "Here Ichigo, these should help you sleep."

To Isshin's surprise, instead of putting the two pills inside his mouth, Ichigo opened up his uniform a little and then his hand disappeared into his chest. Isshin first reaction was to stop Ichigo from whatever he was doing, but just before he could a dark rumble of a growl stopped him as Ichigo glared at him to stay away. When Ichigo pulled put his hand the pill was gone. Feeling a little squeamish Isshin looked away and grabbed the medication bottle and read the label out loud to distract himself.

"It will take about an hour for the pills to take full effect, sleepiness may occur after 20 minutes." Isshin looked back at his son, "These pills are strong so they should work fast." he added.

"We're already tired. Our body tries to heal, but it's already doing the best it can to fend of the... disease..." the words came out of Ichigo's mouth with more difficulty as he spoke.

"I'll let you rest then." Isshin said, knowing that asking any more now would only result in agitation.

"Dad…" Ichigo stopped his father from leaving by grabbing the sleeve of his coat. "We heard you talk in the hall. You should tell Karin and Yuzu why we can't go near, they deserve to know the truth. At least some of it..." He drilled his groggy gaze into Isshin's. "If they know it, they won't come near and... and it will be _easier_ to stay here until we leave..."

"...Why don't you tell them?" Isshin urged, "I have no place to tell them what happened to you... Because I don't know, I don't want to tell lies."

"Just..." Ichigo looked at the floor, avoiding Isshin's gaze, knowing he hadn't really told Isshin anything about being a hollow. He really needed to tell his father what happened since the shinigami started chasing him. "Just tell them what you know..." he closed his eyes, telling Isshin wordlessly that he wanted to rest.

Isshin sighed. "Alright, I'll try to tell them what I can."

"Thank you." Ichigo whispered as he lay on the bed in his worn uniform, not bothering to change his clothes.

The thanks warmed Isshin and caused him to smile gently at his sick son. He knew all too well to cherish the moments when Ichigo showed he was grateful for something, because Ichigo rarely did, even if he knew that Ichigo did appreciate what he did. Isshin left and turned off the lights behind him.

"I heard you talk to Ichigo." Karin stood right next to the door, not the least bit ashamed that she had eavesdropped on the conversation between father and son. "What _truth_ do we _deserve _to know?"

"Karin..." Isshin said, knowing the stare from Karin demanded further explanation on the subject. Placing his hand on Karin's shoulder, he led her to the kitchen table where Yuzu still sat.

"Ichigo looks like hell." Karin stated, clearly no longer angry after having seen the state her older brother was in. "It's worse than I've ever seen him..."

"Ichigo hasn't told me much of what has happened to him," Isshin began, "But I will tell you what I know, the best I can." Isshin continued, "From what I know, Ichigo had a couple of friends and that one of them got into a trouble in another world..."

"The shinigami?" Karin asked.

"Yes, the shinigami." Isshin said, smiling slightly, not sure if he should be happy, sad or angry over the fact that Karin seemed to know what he was talking about. "This girl-"

"Rukia." Karin said, interrupting her father again.

"The same Rukia that used to live here? She's from another world?" Yuzu asked surprised. "But she went to Ichigo's school!" Yuzu added, still not believing.

"Yes, her." Isshin said. "To be able to save Rukia he had to get stronger and leave his body. As a shinigami he managed to save her. But after he did, a bad man in that world was discovered and he set a few things in motion." He looked at the girls, silently asking if they understood so far – which they did. "The bad man, Aizen, assembled the souls that don't live in the same world as the shinigami. These... _souls_ are what the Shinigami protect us humans from. These souls have usually done terrible things and become evil." He didn't want to mention the word Hollow, he had to keep terms out of it and tell as little as he could.

"So this Aizen-guy assembled an army of bad guys?" Asked Karin, making sure she understood.

"Yes. After that Ichigo helped the shinigami because he wanted to protect his new friends, and they were glad he helped them... Or so it seemed."

"He helped them even if they kidnapped Rukia in the first place?" Yuzu asked, but a glare from Karin made her drop her question. "Never mind…" she added in a low whisper.

"From here I don't know much of what exactly happened. I mostly only know what he has become." Isshin looked at the table, having difficulty explaining the little things he did know. "But it seems that Ichigo had kept a secret from the shinigami, one that they didn't like. Half his soul had turned 'bad', I don't know how or why – he hasn't told me..." Isshin trailed off, why did his son have to be so stubborn at important times?

"What, he killed someone or something?" Karin asked, bewildered. How could Ichigo do something like that! She began to wonder if she had ever truly known her brother…

"I don't know," Isshin interrupted her train of thoughts, "But from what Ichigo told me, the shinigami wanted to prevent him from _possibly_ joining Aizen's side because of his 'bad side'."

"Wait, so Ichigo _helped _them, and then they decide to hurt him because he _might_ become bad?" Karin said, not wanting to believe something as stupid as that.

"Yeah, I guess they didn't want the risk having him around, seeing what he partly is inside."

"What... is he inside...?" She asked in a shaking voice, wondering if she actually wanted to know more than this. What could her brother have become that would cause the shinigami to think they needed to kill him?

Isshin squirmed, he didn't plan on telling them this much... "A half bad, half good soul that looks human but wears the mask of the bad souls. That's why Ichigo has one as well." Isshin explained.

That white, fanged thing... It had been dark in the room, but the stark white of the mask had been very easy to see. So that mask was some sort of… undead _thing_ that belong to bad souls?

"The Shinigami," Isshin continued, getting Karin's attention back, "...began hunting Ichigo down. All he told me was that they were trying to kill him."

Yuzu inhaled, shocked that anyone would trying to hurt someone for that reason, and not only hurt, but _kill_.

"That's when Ichigo's soul began to turn bad even more – the very thing the shinigami wanted to prevent. It must have been horrible for him... I tried to make him talk about it once... But he started crying so much that I just couldn't get myself to force him to talk..."

The two girls looked shocked at the last part. Their brother cried? He never cried, no matter how much he was hurt; after their mother died he never shed a tear – not even once.

"I don't know if Ichigo did anything bad to begin with, I don't know if he ever did anything to provoke them. I don't know exactly what makes the soul turn bad, only that something horrible has to happen... But I have seen what bad souls can do once they've turned and it's not pretty. Once a soul turns, it..." What was he going to tell them? "...it becomes hungry." Isshin had to admit that he didn't know much more about it than that. "Since Ichigo turned, he can't eat normal things anymore... He has to..._ kill _people to stay alive." Isshin felt bad for saying is so bluntly. "I don't know how it works; I just know that that's what they do."

Both Yuzu and Karin's eyes grew a bit larger, more than surprised. Pure shock.

"What!?" Karin asked, not wanting to believe what she was told. "Ichigo killed people to stay alive?" It couldn't be true! "What in the world are these 'bad souls'? Vampires? Zombies?"

"No... it's nothing like that." Isshin said, half wondering if all those horror-stories originated from humans who were able to see hollows. "All I know is that hunger drives them and that it's hard for Ichigo to control himself. He can't help himself when he gets hungry and that's why he wants you to stay away." He said seriously. "So... it's best if you try to avoid Ichigo and understand that he doesn't do it because he hates you, he does it because he cares, because he loves you."

"That's what happened when you fought him in his room didn't it? He became hungry and wanted to eat... _me_?" The mere thought sent shivers down her spine, "He didn't seem like himself then... But then you gave him that weird stuff and he became himself again!"

"Yes, that's what happened then Karin..." Isshin confirmed, "I don't know what that 'food' does or what it's made of. But I do know that it seems to help Ichigo calm down for longer periods of time, so I guess it's like a food-replacement."

"So... he isn't dangerous all the time then?" Yuzu asked carefully.

"No Yuzu, he's not. He just has a side to him now that's not nice all time." Isshin said as he placed his hand on her head, ruffling her blond hair.

"But from what I understand, it's the shinigami's fault Ichigo is the way he is now?" Karin remarked.

"Yes." Isshin swallowed. He wasn't sure if he was ready to tell them he was a shinigami himself. Not after the story he just told his daughters.

**End of chapter**


	33. Monstrous Truth

**Chapter 33: Monstrous Truth**

The next morning Ichigo sat and ate his nutrients in the clinic-part of the house, not wanting to be tempted to have his sisters for breakfast. He felt pretty bad about avoiding them again, but he thought it was better not to see them; especially after what happened yesterday.

Maybe if he just stayed away from them long enough they would think he had left again and wouldn't worry about him bursting into their bedroom to strangle them even if they had locked the door.

He could smell their fear even as they slept. It made him sick to the stomach and the vile food he ate even worse. The stuff burned as it made its way through Ichigo's dead veins and was absorbed into his nerves. It tore at him with its unmerciful effect, tortured him as it crushed a part of him, forcing his instinct away from his consciousness.

It made him shiver to the bone and he traced his clawed hand along his ribs that jutted out at odd angels and caving stomach. He grimaced as he felt the various dents and odd bruises and scars over his skin. He put the lid back on his steel container.

As soon as he was done, his father came and Ichigo rose from the bed, happy to have his father distract him from his own thoughts. He was quick to get ready to leave for Urahara's shop to watch the work on the gate to Soul Society.

The shop was as deserted, just like all the other times Ichigo had been there. He couldn't help but wonder if the store ever had _any_ costumers, or if Urahara had gotten enough money through other means just to keep the charade of having a simple grocery store.

Urahara himself didn't seem to mind the empty rooms and greeted the two as happily as he always had. After a cup of untouched tea on Ichigo's part, the trio once more headed down into the underground complex.

Isshin and Urahara set to work and Ichigo watched from the top of one of the larger rock formations once more. Words were mumbled and spells were cast. Kidõ formed and shaped what would later become the portal. Even now there was no visual confirmation that anything was being done, but Ichigo could smell the thickening spirit-energy in the air. It coiled and twisted where the gate would be formed.

It made Ichigo wonder how thick the spirit-energy had to become before he started to act odd. Having only eaten two spoons of the already declining nutrients, Ichigo could feel his veins ache as the morning approached late afternoon. He sat staring at rock walls until he could not stand the feeling of his veins swiveling together and slowly loosing their battle against the ever pulling monster and approaching death. Time was up for the life he had borrowed, the nutrients that replaced the sands in his hourglass were running out.

Quickly Ichigo rose, almost loosing his foothold in the process, a spinning confusion taking hold of him because of the increased scent of the two shinigami in front of him. It made him bare his teeth under the mask. He clumsily stumbled for the ladder that would lead to his escape, but he stopped stupidly in front of it, glaring.

His father had helped him up before. Climbing up a ladder with one arm was of course possible, but doing it on a twenty meter long ladder? Ichigo's eyes desperately searched for another option but found none.

"Ichigo!" Isshin's voice called. It suddenly seemed so loud. Ichigo squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. "Where are you going? Need anything?"

Knowing full well that his father had no idea of his current state of mind, Ichigo forced himself to stay calm. "We have to go out for a bit." He spoke through gritted teeth.

"Where? What are you going to do?" Isshin asked, fearing the worst, knowing Ichigo didn't have any other reason than 'feeding' to leave his side.

"We have to go and…" Ichigo sighed. "We're running out of the food we have to eat to stay calm. We can't eat it all up before we go to Soul Society. We will need most of it there. We have to go and get _something else_ instead."

Isshin said nothing, his face serious but yet held hints of disappointment. Knowing he couldn't stop his son he held out his arms. Isshin knew he didn't want to face his son when he became more beast than man.

"Fine." Isshin finally said and lifted Ichigo into his arms, bridal style. It was uncomfortable to hold his son, the spikes on his shoulder, jutting ribs and protruding hipbones digging into his abdomen and arms. But was bothered him the most was how little Ichigo weighed. He seemed so frail that it seemed like Ichigo would be crushed by simply holding him in his strong arms.

In a single jump Isshin was at the top of the cave, back in the store. He put Ichigo down, who dusted himself off and straightened his white uniform as if embarrassed. He said a swift goodbye and left as in great hurry. To Isshin's unease, he could already hear the changes in Ichigo's voice.

Isshin couldn't help but wonder if there would be some unexplained death in the news the next day. An uncomfortable lump had formed in his throat, but he managed to swallow it.

"He's my son... yet when he leaves for the reason to do something unforgivable, I… I just can't help but to doubt my decision – and that doubt makes me feel like the worst father in the world." Isshin said to Urahara as he returned next to unfinished gate.

"You are the best father in the world, the lengths you go to protect the one you love are admirable and helping your son get well is a good cause no matter what you son does or might have done." The blond shopkeeper said from behind his trusty fan.

"I wish I could believe the same..." Isshin said a bit downcast. "Let's finish this quickly so I can get Ichigo to Unohana."

Urahara said nothing and continued with his work on the gate.

Doubt followed Isshin all the way home, when he left several hours later. Ichigo hadn't returned to Urahara shop, he hadn't sent any message or called. Nor was he at home when Isshin came entered the house. The door was still locked and the lights were out.

He took a shower and made himself something to eat. Ichigo had yet to return and worry infected Isshin's thoughts once more. He had already checked the guest room and Ichigo's real body. Nothing.

He sat in the living room, watching TV with the volume low so he wouldn't wake his daughters. An hour passed. And another. When the clock ticked near one in the morning, Isshin wondered if he should just go to bed and hope that Ichigo would come home in a couple of hours. But what if something had happened? What if a shingami had found his weakend son first?

But as his heart accelerated at the thought, the handle on the front door suddenly turned ever so slowly. Isshin rushed to open the door. As he flung it open, he saw a shadow disappear from the side of the house and hide in the shadows.

"Ichigo!" He called into the night. For a second he thought it was someone or something else, perhaps a bugler or a cat, but then Ichigo finally came out from the shadows. Isshin couldn't hear any foot steps, or the rustling of his clothes or any breath. He couldn't help but to be spooked by his son's ghost-like appearance.

"Where have you been? I've been worried." Isshin couldn't stop himself from asking as he closed the door and walked into the kitchen where Ichigo had stopped.

"We told you before. We had to stop it."

"Stop what?" Isshin questioned, perplexed by the cryptic answer.

"Our instincts." Ichigo mumbled, looking and walking away, not wanting to explain what he had done – afraid his father would hate him.

"What instincts?" Isshin pressed. "You have to go and do… _something_… I don't know, horrible things because of some urge?" Isshin couldn't understand how his son could commit murder just because he felt like it! He grabbed Ichigo's bony arm, forcing him to look at him. Maybe he was overreacting from sleep deprivation, but he didn't care.

"You don't understand!" Ichigo hissed fiercely at his father.

"I can't understand it if you don't explain anything!" Isshin said just as fiercely as Ichigo, but without screaming, afraid he might wake his daughters.

At first Ichigo only glared at him, but then pulled his arm away from Isshin's grip and exhaled loudly. "Fine..."

Ichigo sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and Isshin couldn't help but to notice the pain it seem to cause him. Stopping himself from asking what was wrong; Isshin sat down as well, forcing himself to keep quiet – not wanting Ichigo to change his mind in getting an explanation of the situation.

"I'm a monster." Ichigo stated firmly, whether or not Isshin had accepted that fact. He was also going to tell the story himself and try to leave his inner hollow out of it the best he could. He didn't know if Shirosaki had felt anything similar to what he had when he had eaten his own heart.

"Being a hollow means we thirst to quench our ever growing agony of the unspeakable things we went thought that made us eat out own heart out." He stole the words from Nnoitra, but he didn't care, they explained it well. "I was injured beyond rescue by a shinigami captain and was left on the brink of death... I took the only way out that was offered to me. But the life I gained came at a great cost." Ichigo placed his palm over the white clothes that covered the empty space beneath to clarify. He intended to keep it simple and firm, to stop Isshin from interrupting.

"The removal of my own heart rid me of all emotion, removed my conscious-mind and left nothing but a husk behind." It was hard to explain and slowly Ichigo leaned forward, resting his arm against the table.

Isshin's lips parted and something like shocked surprise covered his face. So his father didn't know anything of what it was like being a hollow then. Ignorant shinigami.

"Nothing but the anguish from that moment on filled me. It's... it's like a black hole formed where my heart used to be, a hole that's eating everything good away." Ichigo shuddered at the memory. "In the wake of my heart, only basic, raw instincts of returning myself to who I once was remained."

Ichigo paused to gather his thoughts. He had to make everything come out right. "And to do that; the gaping hole in my chest had to be fixed. But a hole right through the ribcage can't be fixed very easily." Ichigo explained. "But you can't stop yourself from trying." He looked directly at his father, "At that moment - you've got nothing to lose."

Isshin's face darkened every so slightly, he knew where this was heading. Maybe he had hoped Ichigo wouldn't see, but Ichigo _had_ seen the hate in Isshin's eyes. Ichigo couldn't blame him. Killing wasn't a good thing, he knew that... But Isshin needed to know the reason why he did what he did.

"So you become something that _can_ fix it. Your instincts rage with desire of not being a husk." Ichigo paused, having to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. "The instinct transforms and makes something else move through you, a demon without shape, one that strives for nothing but to kill the anguish that cuts so deep into your soul that it will never fully heal." The beast that he could never cage. "The instincts - the monster, forces you to do everything you can, even kill and eat other humans, just to stop you from being a shell of nothing. It's like drowning. You have no choice but to struggle for survival and accept whatever helps you."

Ichigo paused, unsure of what he should, and shouldn't tell his father. He didn't want Isshin to ask questions about his first kill. "When I took a life to restore my own – my soul and sanity returned and I was once more in control of my actions. The hole disappeared when the stolen life flowed through my body. I was whole again and I've felt nothing better."

"The hole disappeared?" Isshin asked stupidly and received an angry glare from Ichigo for interrupting. He had never known that could happen. The hole could be cured in other ways than having to purify, or in other words; kill the hollow?

"But... You can never replace your own heart once it's gone." Ichigo added grimly.

The small joy Isshin's face had had disappeared. So it wasn't permanent. Well, of course it couldn't be, because then Ichigo wouldn't have to suffer so much.

"Without a constant supply of life, meaning blood or spirit-energy, the hole returns. My body can no longer sustain itself on its own, but it can support itself on the blood it gains from others for some time. And for a while I can think and move on my own. Maybe for a few days, a week, hell, maybe even so long as a month if the kill is large enough."

So that was why Ichigo didn't rampage at all times, Isshin realized. Was that also the reason hollows didn't attack humans all the time? It had to be.

"But when death once again creeps near, the formless beast inside me returns. It calls out to me and reminds me that I am only borrowing life, that I'm still dying from that time when a shinigami plunged his sword into my guts." The hate was clear in his voice. "It destroys my will, reminds me of the despair I felt and there is nothing I can do but to kill again to get rid of it. I become the monster every time." Ichigo sounded fierce, almost accusing. "It's a vicious-cycle that never ends."

Isshin remained quiet for a while. He never would have guessed. He knew being a hollow wasn't what he had been taught at the academy in Soul Society or how he himself thought it would be. Never had he imagined anything like this.

"I'm sorry Ichigo. I had no idea..."

"I know," he said and then rose from his seat abruptly and mumbled; "We're gonna go rest."

"W-wait! Please..." Isshin stuttered. "You said that life was offered to you... Who… offered it?" Isshin was almost too afraid to ask, his voice dying at the end.

"I thought you already knew that." Ichigo said, raising his eyebrows under the mask. "My hollow."

"Your hollow?" Isshin didn't dare to think about what it could possibly mean.

"I have a hollow that lives inside my mind. It's been there since I went to Soul Society for the first time. We share my body." Oh, how fucked up he sounded. The fact that he had dual personality disorder wasn't something he was glad to think about. "I thought you knew, since you're friends with Urahara."

"I didn't."

"At first I hated the hollow. I did everything I could to get rid of it, but I couldn't. He's there to stay. I don't like him, but when times got rough, he helped. He's the reason I'm still around and I owe him my life, if you can do that to someone that shares the same body."

Isshin swallowed nervously. And looked like wanted to say something but unable to decide what. Ichigo took it as his cue to leave and went upstairs, leaving Isshin with his questions. He had said more than enough for now and it made him feel better.

But even if the beast within was satisfied for now and didn't bother him, he couldn't sleep, even under the layers of life he had taken from stray dogs and rats. It didn't seem able to repress his apprehension of the steadily approaching trip to Soul Society. Turning in his bed into the small hours of the night, Ichigo wondered what horrors awaited him.

Uneasily he closed his eyes and took refuge inside his soul. The storm blew and tore at his clothes. Struggling against it, Ichigo descended into the fog at the base of his skyscrapers until he saw his other self sitting with his legs dangling down the side of the vertical building.

"Is this really the right decision?" Ichigo asked, knowing the hollow might not be the best man to ask for such advice. But he had none else to ask.

"It's a risk we have to take, King." Shirosaki told him.

Ichigo couldn't stop the anxious feeling from rising in his chest. The weather changed with his mood, fog rising from the bottom of the world and sharp winds whipped at the faces of the two identical boys.

It got hard to breathe and the air felt dry despite the rain that seemed like needles piercing his skin. Blinking through the rain, Ichigo stared at one of the buildings ahead. It looked like it was on the verge of collapsing, and it was hard to believe that the building was in fact a representation of his soul. It was so surrealistic it was too hard to understand. The longer he stared at it, the harder it seemed to be to comprehend that the building contained his memories. What would happen when the fungus spread too far, when its threads would strangle the skyscraper and only leave rubble behind?

Shuddering at the thought, he looked at the ground. Biting his lip hard, Ichigo knew he was afraid. He was afraid of a lot of things when it came down to it. No matter how much he lied to himself. He wasn't as brave as he had pretended to be when he saved Rukia. Or maybe back then he had been, but not anymore. He was not like he had been; too much in him had changed since then.

The idea of losing parts of his soul was frightening. The idea of dying without the comforting thought of being reborn scared him. What if when his time would come, he would end up in Hell for all the lives he had taken? Didn't people that had done bad things in their lives go there? His body was still alive in his room. The thought wasn't comforting and quickly he dismissed it, not waiting to think about it.

The hollow was right, for his own selfish survival it was a risk he had to take.

The next morning, Ichigo woke up feeling groggy. He felt stiff, as if he had slept on rocks instead of a soft bed. Groaning, Ichigo was glad to rid himself of the tangled sheets. He wasn't good at sleeping when he was just a lost, wandering soul. One day, when he had been away from his body for too long, would the blankets move through him as if he wasn't there? The thought was unsettling and Ichigo stumbled into the bathroom.

He removed his mask and it crumbled to the floor before dissolving into nothing. His reflection was grim, dark rims under his eyes and the scar on his cheek was bloated and ugly. He let the water from the tap run until it was warm and then leaned down to carefully clean the wound. It stung lightly, but it felt good nevertheless.

After brushing his hair, Ichigo called upon his mask again and headed downstairs. Sitting down at the kitchen table, staring out the window into the morning mist, Ichigo scraped some nutrients from the small metal container with a spoon for breakfast.

Shivering at the snot like substance, he didn't dare to eat much, afraid of running out in Soul Society. Yet, He wanted to eat as much as possible so he wouldn't go on a rampage as soon as he arrived.

Sometime later his father entered the kitchen, looking as tired as Ichigo felt. Isshin informed him that he had arranged for a friend at the hospital to come and check on Karin and Yuzu every two days. Ichigo nodded, not really knowing what to say and the two them sat in silence until Isshin had finished his coffee and a slice of bread.

"You can't go in those white clothes. They stand out too much." Isshin said seriously, breaking the heavy silence once he had finished eating. "I have a spare shinigami uniform that you can use, it's a bit large for you but it will do." Isshin said after a bit of thought. "Come!" He urged Ichigo to follow as he headed up into his bedroom and opened the large closet there.

Ichigo saw nothing out of the ordinary until Isshin pulled all the clothes to the side to reveal the empty back wall. He pushed at it and a part of the closet sank back and pulled away. A secret little space was beneath, where a white sash, a black haori and hakama hung.

"You've always had that there?" Ichigo asked, hopefully hiding the spite that threatened to fill his voice. How many more secrets did his father really have? His eyes narrowed for a second but then remember that Isshin had promised to help, despite his secrets. He had to ignore any lies for now.

Isshin placed the uniform on the bed and leaned back into the closet. He retrieved something small. "Your mother sometimes wore this." Isshin said and proudly held up a large, dark colored kerchief.

Taking the item carefully, Ichigo studied it. He tried to imagine his mother wearing it but all his mind seemed keen on conjuring was the memory of her cold corpse. He swallowed uneasily and handed it back to his father. "We can't take this... it's hers, not ours. We don't want to ruin it."

Isshin pushed the hand back. "Don't be like that; I'm sure she would be happy to see it used again." Said Isshin. "And proud." He added with a soft smile.

Gently Isshin placed the garment over Ichigo's head and wrapped it around his face and neck, but kept the eyes slightly visible. He frowned gently as he just saw the curved, evil-looking holes of the mask and tired eyes beneath. "Can't you take the mask off?"

"No. It hides our face." Ichigo said; he wasn't about to show his ruined face to his father.

"There is no need to hide when you're home; it's safe here. You can take it off." Isshin said softly, not sure how to say what he wanted since he didn't want to sound rude.

"It hides our ugliness." Ichigo mumbled.

"Hey, don't say that! You're not ugly." Carefully Isshin reached up gently placed his fingers on the mask and tried to push it to the side. But to his disappointment he found it stuck there, as if it was glued onto Ichigo's face. His smile twitched as he tried not to look sad.

"Don't touch it." Ichigo spoke clearly with a hint of anger, and drew back.

"Sorry." He said nervously. "Um… I think the uniform shouldn't look _too_ odd on you." Isshin said, changing the sensitive subject and carefully made his way past Ichigo and removing his old uniform form its hanger. "Want to try it?"

"Yeah, sure..." Ichigo mumbled, not sounding very thrilled at the idea. "Um, can you, uh… leave?" He didn't want his body to be seen; that would only make his father worry more.

"Oh, yeah... sure..." Isshin blurred out and left, but before he closed the door behind him, he added; "Do you need some help with anything?"

"No, it's fine." Ichigo said; his voice stiff.

He grabbed at the tough garment of the divided pants and resisted the urge just to scream and tear the clothes apart with his claws. He didn't want to wear them, not when the ones who left him on the brink of death wore the exact same uniform. Breathing heavily through his nostrils to calm his nerves, Ichigo stripped from his white uniform and dressed into the black one. It was big and the arms too long, long enough to almost conceal his hands. It made Ichigo wonder if it was an old design of the uniform, or that he was just so small in comparison to his father. Sighing, Ichigo pulled the kerchief back over the grinning mask of his and stepped out of the bedroom.

"So, how do I look?" Ichigo asked his father with a troubled sigh.

"Like a shinigami." Isshin said, smiling as if it was a good thing.

"Wished we never had to look like them again." He fought to hold back his anger. Just wearing clothes again reminded him too much of the moment of his own death, when the group of unfamiliar shinigami that had torn both his mind and body apart.

"Well, hopefully these clothes won't bring too much unwanted attention, and that's good at least?" Isshin's smile faltered.

"I guess."

Ichigo looked small in the clothes, as if at any moment he would be consumed by them and disappear. Not from height, he was close to his father in length, but from how thin his body was. Pulling at the dark fabric with his claws, Ichigo wanted nothing more than to change back to his white clothes. Or any human clothes for that matter. But he reminded himself that he had no other option, besides death, than to wear them and go Soul Society for help.

Ichigo sighed, not knowing what to say. "... We'll wait downstairs for you to get ready."

"Alright." Isshin said, smiling before he went into the bathroom to wash up.

Before going downstairs however, Ichigo went back to the guest room. He took a pair of his own socks, his fathers being too large. The sandals would have to do however, as he couldn't go with his black arrancar boots. He grabbed Zangetsu, its sturdy hilt not doing much to console him.

Leaving the second floor he sat down in the sofa in the living room. His anorectic body collapsing into the soft pillows, Ichigo was unable to hide his anxiety. Worry was plastered all over his face.

Well enough the mask hid it well, but not his body language. He couldn't stop pushing his fingers against the rim of his hole that lay hidden under the robes, or find any comfortable position to sit in. He moved his hand through his hair nervously and released a deep sigh. However he stiffened when Karin and Yuzu come downstairs to eat breakfast before they went to school.

Karin was the first to see their brother in the living room. She stopped and held out her hand to stop Yuzu as well, whom was about to go into the kitchen. Karin frowned, not sure if she dared to go near. Yuzu squinted and clasped her hands together in front of her, worry creeping over her face as she saw a blurry shadow in the sofa Karin was staring at with a concerned look.

"Is it Ichigo?" She whispered carefully, grabbing Karin's arm.

"Yeah..." She said lowly, but then her expression turned into a frown as she gathered courage and in a swift stride she walked to up her brother and sat down next to him, Ichigo's eyes following her underneath the mask like small speck of stars underneath that dead surface. She found it creepy, but didn't want it to show.

Swallowing, Yuzu slowly neared the sofa as well, easily becoming scared at her sister's stiff expression and wondered what her brother really looked like. She couldn't help to notice that Ichigo's shadow-like form actually sank into the sofa, the fabric and wool inside it moving after his body. Was he sitting in a relaxed manner, therefore not moving, or stiff and ready to run? She guessed at the latter. But then again, she didn't know her brother at all any more.

"What's going on, Ichigo?" Karin's voice was surprisingly loud in the heavy silence.

At first Yuzu didn't think there would be any response, but then there was a heavy sigh, coming from somewhere where she knew her brother sat. She had trouble telling exactly where the voice came from. It was as if the entire shape was talking to her, or more like whispering. His voice didn't carry far at all, and she had to lean closer to hear – her perception of the world beyond weak and unclear.

"We're not doing too good."

His voice wasn't sounding like it was supposed to. It was too gritty, too rough and yet it held a strange sharp edge to it and Yuzu got an uncomfortable image of a being with sharp teeth talking in her mind. It didn't look like her brother at all, not even in the slightest.

"We're sick. Got sick when we were… away." Every word sounded strained, as if everything he said was forced. It probably was. Ichigo never spoke of how he felt or of things that hurt. "Dad can't cure it. He's helping us getting help from the enemy in an last attempt to survive."

"The... Shinigami?" Yuzu asked, receiving a surprised look from Karin. She wasn't going to sit and say nothing. She wasn't a baby.

"Yes."

"Is it… cancer?" She asked with a frown. Nothing else came to her mind at Ichigo's cryptic answer. She received a snort then a troubled sigh.

"No, Yuzu. It's not cancer." Ichigo answered. "But you could say it's similar. We hardly know anything about the disease."

Before Ichigo could say anything else, Isshin came downstairs looking less tired than before and was skillfully hiding his own troubles from his daughters as soon as he saw them.

"Karin, Yuzu! I seem my wonderful daughters have woken up!" He beamed, however his playful manner died off as he met Karin's stern gaze.

"Ichigo said you're leaving."

"Ah..." Isshin said, trying to come up with something good to say. He hadn't really talked to his daughters about it, having been too busy with making the portal. "Yes." He sighed slightly, "As Ichigo might have told you, he isn't well."

"Yes." Yuzu said almost in a whisper. "He said you're going to get help." Yuzu swallowed uneasily. "Is it about that you told us before?"

"No." Isshin said and sat down at the end of the sofa. "He's got a disease I've never seen before. So we're going to see a doctor I worked together with a while ago. We're going to go there today. I've arranged for a friend of mine from work to come and check on you around dinner while we are gone."

"Eh... Alright." Karin said, sounding a bit offended for not having been told before. "How long will you be gone?"

"Three days at least. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I was too occupied with getting things ready for the trip. I hope you understand."

"It's alright." Yuzu said, smiling slightly, trying not to show how worried she was.

Isshin rose from his seat and turned to look at his three children. It had been long since he had seen them all together. It was good to have the family together again even if it was only for a moment. Even if none of them looked happy, it still warmed Isshin's heart.

If it was possible he would have wanted to take a picture of the whole family together, because the fact that it might be the last time Ichigo was… Quickly he shoved the thought away; he had to stop thinking like this. But it was hard. Too many times had he seen hurt and mentally destroyed children during his work.

Shuddering that the dark thought Isshin knew he and Ichigo had to get going. "Well. Me and Ichigo have to leave now. We are in a bit of a hurry." He did his best to hide the worry in his voice.

Both Karin and Yuzu got up from the sofa, quickly hugging their father. Ichigo was a bit slower, but once he got up he towered over his little sisters.

"I hope you get well soon Ichigo." Karin sincerely told her brother.

Yuzu hugged him the best she cloud, tears threatening fall from her eyes. "Get well!" She managed to say, her voice thick.

"We will." Ichigo said, knowing anything else would be wrong to say, even if he wasn't so sure of the outcome himself. "Take care of yourselves, okay?" Ichigo smiled lightly under the mask, even if it wasn't showing. He let go of Yuzu and headed for the door.

Isshin got ready, putting on his shoes and jacket. Ichigo placed his soul cutter over his back before the two of them headed out the door.

"Bye..." Both Karin and Yuzu whispered as they stood in the doorway, seeing them off. They waved goodbye when Ichigo stopped and turned around, meeting his sisters' sad and worried faces.

As the two girls disappeared from their view, neither Ichigo nor Isshin said anything to each other as they walked through the almost empty streets of Karakura until they arrived at Urahara's shop.

The gate was large. A black gaping hole between large white pillars. Apparently almost everything visual of the gate had been done when Ichigo hadn't been there. It was an impressive sight, but Ichigo knew it didn't bode well.

He stood watching it, wondering what would happen once he arrived on the other side. He felt sick as imaginative bile rose in the throat. So many human reflexes played tricks on his mind. He wondered if he would ever loose them, or if he would always spend his days feeling just a little too much for a man with no heart.

Ichigo sighed, trying not to brood over his decision and directed his thoughts towards his approaching father. Isshin held up his wife's kerchief and helped with warping it around his son's head, face and neck so only a small part his eyes showed. The glaring eye sockets of the hollow mask did stand out a little, but not as much as the entire thing showing. Since Ichigo refused to take the mask off, it would have to do.

"What about his hand?" Urahara pointed out.

Without saying anything, Ichigo balled his hand into a fist, the long sleeve hiding the closed hand.

"Guess that works." muttered the shop keeper. He would have liked to ask about Ichigo's heavy looking soul cutter; it stood out like a sore thumb. But he didn't, knowing full well that the weapon was a part of the boys soul just as his own soul-cutter was part of his. He himself would have refused to go without his beloved Benihime, so he didn't voice his thoughts. Instead he turned around, facing the gate.

"Are you two ready?" He asked.

Gently Isshin grabbed Ichigo's arm, who turned to face his father and nodded. Isshin smiled back comfortably, let go of his son and stepped forward. "Thank you for your help, Urahara."

"Safe journey. I wish you the best of luck!" he said, giving a large smile and waving his fan in a friendly manner.

With that they headed through the gate, Isshin walking first and Ichigo followed. Doubt grew inside him with each step he took. Ichigo swallowed uneasily, feeling like all of this was just one big mistake.

The darkness was thick and when Ichigo stared at it for too long without moving his gaze, he had a feeling that the path either tilted up towards the heavens, or dipped right down to the depths of Hell.

It went down. Definitely down.

**End of chapter**


	34. Soul Society

**Chapter 34: Soul Society**

The darkness ebbed away and the black tunnel evaporated into white walls that quickly disintegrated into a green, lush forest. The transition was fast, disorienting and every breath Ichigo took was an intense rush that made his mind spin out of control. Overwhelmed, he stumbled over the ridge of the portal.

His father's arm was the only thing that kept him from hitting the ground face first.

"Ichigo!" Isshin burst out and did his best to get his son standing, who lay limp in his arms, unable to control his body that seem to have melted away.

"T-the air," Ichigo wriggled like a worm. "So sweet..."

As soon as he had said it Isshin realized that everything here was made of life. Even the air. Just what all hollows constantly craved, according to Ichigo.

Not sure what to do, Isshin lowered Ichigo to the ground and lay him in the grass. It was as if Ichigo couldn't stop gasping for breath, each one a new taste, a new sensation. His eyes rolled in his skull.

"Ichigo," Isshin repeated, uncertain of what to say. There was no response from his son and feeling a bit distressed, Isshin shook Ichigo's shoulder trying to get him out of the daze. "Ichigo! You can't lie here!" He barked and pulled Ichigo to his feet.

"But, but..." It was the only objection Ichigo could muster as he wobbled on his feet.

"Pull yourself together!" Isshin urged. He didn't want to be harsh, but he couldn't have Ichigo ruin everything already. He had anticipated that Ichigo would act strange when they came here, even that Ichigo would attack the nearest shinigami he saw, but not that he would react so intensely to just the air itself.

Ichigo's pushed his fingers into his eyes, slowly stopping the ache that resisting own his instincts caused. It was hard, his body shaking from the effort. He tried not to breathe and he wasn't sure if he could calm himself down.

Soul Society wasn't like he remembered it. Never had it taken the breath out of him like it did now. He hadn't seen things the way he saw them now. There was no denying that the bight glow of gold was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, that the trees waving in the wind with the shimmer of diamonds made him stagger.

The world was beyond beauty, a colourful daze and the air transformed everything into a whirlwind of fire. It licked his skin like hungry flames and even his pores tried to pick up the spirit-energy. Squinting through the light, his jaw set and his fingers clenched into a fist at his side. He did his best to see past every temptation to ravish the world around him, to consume every particle.

"Ichigo, I need you to focus." Isshin's hand squeezed his shoulder and Ichigo jumped, the warmth of his father's hand seeming to burn through his clothes and scorching his skin. No Gigai was protecting Ichigo now from the intense light that was his father. It had been the same back then, when Tatsuki had touched him and he had run away from his friends.

Isshin quickly let go, but didn't take his eyes off Ichigo's brown ones that he could only glimpse through the slim holes of the mask.

"Listen to me. Focus on my voice," Isshin said seriously. "Don't fall for those instincts."

"You don't know what it's like!" Ichigo hissed through gritted teeth, every breath making his mind reel.

"I know I don't understand, but I know you're strong! You can resist it," Isshin didn't really know what to say to calm his son. "You need to stay on top of it, with me."

_"We can't."_

"Yes, you can Ichigo! You have to!" He said. "If you don't, everything we worked for will be lost!"

"We know!" Ichigo barked, shoving Isshin away. Ichigo moved his arm up over his shoulder and grabbed Zangetsu. Immediately he could feel its steady beat, its rhythmic pulse of powerful spirit-energy.

Unsure of his son's intentions, Isshin hand travelled to the hilt of his own sword and his eyes narrowed. He straightened his back and pulled back his shoulders, appearing bigger than he was just in case. But Ichigo didn't attack, seeming to have fallen into some sort of trance, his upper body rocking slightly back and forth, Zangetsu giving of small sparks that even Isshin could feel from where he stood.

Easily noticing that the soul cutter helped Ichigo focus a great deal, Isshin stepped closer. Ichigo seemed relaxed now, his eyes closed without effort and his shoulders slumped. His breathing seemed even and his feet stable. He stood there for quite some time, seeming unaware of the world around him.

Isshin didn't dare to say anything, or even move, afraid he might disturb Ichigo with whatever he was doing, even if it felt like they were wasting precious time.

But then with an exhale Ichigo's eyes opened and Isshin could see inky black leave Ichigo's sclera and his iris fading from yellow into familiar brown. It left Isshin unnerved, but he knew it was best not to comment on it.

"Sorry..." Ichigo said lowly and blinked, still dazed from the small spark that had been lit within. Isshin tried to meet his eyes but Ichigo seemed unable to look ahead, as if he was constantly blinded.

"Can you walk?" Isshin didn't dare to ask if he was all right.

"Yes."

Even after finding his way back from the turmoil of his soul, it was still hard for Ichigo to keep focus, his body trembling with the effort. Never before had it been so bad that both his hollow and Zangetsu had needed to help him. Before he had never tried so hard either and killed instead of resisting.

He could hardly look ahead and he grabbed his father's arm. He focused with all his might on his own hand that didn't glow like everything else and just let himself get pulled along. He wished his father could have stayed in his Gigai, but knew that wasn't possible.

Isshin glanced behind himself, Ichigo's claws pushing tightly into his bicep. He found it hard to remain calm with Ichigo breathing down his neck but did his best not show it. If someone need remain focused it was him. If he didn't, he couldn't help Ichigo when he needed it.

Unable to not feel nervous, Isshin guided Ichigo through the rather dense forest, feeling his son stumble over the rough ground. Couldn't he see? What blinded him so? Isshin turned around, smiling slightly at Ichigo. "Want me to carry Zangetsu?" He asked.

At first Ichigo only squinted at him, teary-eyed. He didn't seem too pleased with the offer.

"Let me take it Ichigo," Isshin offered again. "It looks heavy."

The image of Isshin disarming him to take him to whomever it was that took care of war criminals was unnerving. But as Ichigo handed his cleaver to Isshin, he reminded himself that Isshin was his father. He wouldn't do that... right?

"You'll have to give it back as soon as we say so. Zangetsu helps me focus."

"Of course."

Carefully Isshin took the soul-cutter, finding it heavier than it seemed. He turned it in his hand and carried it with the broad back of it downwards so he could easily hold it with his hand, the thick steel resting against the side of his torso. The energy it emitted reminded him of his own weapon and he smiled a bit at that.

"How much further is it?"

"Not far. Unohana will meet us in the garden behind the hospital."

Finally they emerged from the forest much to Ichigo's appreciation. It was much easier to see here but the grace still remained. Every stone was a diamond, ever flower a sapphire and the walls of every building was made of the finest silver.

They didn't walk very far on open ground, much to Ichigo's relief as he saw many shinigami in the distance that made the monster inside him coil. The _need _to kill kept rising like bile in his throat and it was hard to swallow.

They walked toward Seretei, the white towers swiftly growing larger and eventually they made a turn into the narrow passages ways. The walls seemed like a maze for Ichigo, he couldn't remember the way they lead to since his last visit and he couldn't resist the urge to repeat his last question.

"Almost there," Isshin answered.

True to his word there were only two more turns and the narrow walls opened up to a small field where a large building stood. Isshin picked up his phase as there were many men here and quickly dragged Ichigo behind the building. His son did his best to follow even if every cell in his body wanted to turn around and quench his agony. His breathing became ragged and every step an effort.

"Dad…" Ichigo managed to choke out and Isshin quickly handed Zangetsu back.

Feeling calmer Ichigo marched on, Isshin still pulling him along until they finally arrived behind the hospital. It was quiet there and Ichigo exhaled, his voice already having turned a notch darker.

The leader of the fourth division wasn't hard to spot for Ichigo. Unohana was an angel, her dark hair set with bronze details and her body glowing in brilliant yellows. It was only the wings she missed. His father was all the same, a shining solider of the Gods. It was hard to see that they were the reason for all his misery.

"It's alright, Ichigo," Isshin said, misinterpreting Ichigo's stop as fear. "Let's meet the doctor," Isshin said, ushering Ichigo forward. It took a surprising amount of time to walk across the garden.

"Unohana!" Isshin greeted with a large smile. They walked up to her and Ichigo had to hold his breath.

"Isshin!" Unohana replied just as fondly and they shook hands. "It has been too long."

"It has! It has!" Her smile broadened. "It is very good to see you again."

Isshin smiled, happy to meet a friend after so many, many years. Letting go of her soft hands, Isshin stepped back and reached behind Ichigo's back and pushed him forward gently.

"This is my son, Ichigo, that I told you about."

"Hello, Ichigo," She said and her smile becoming even kinder as she leaned toward him to get a better look.

"Hi," Ichigo managed to squeak out. He wanted to say she was beautiful but he kept his mouth closed. _You are beautiful and we want to eat you. _His eyes squeezed shut.

Unohana's smile faded and she turned to face Isshin again. "I have prepared a room for you," She turned from where she stood and motioned for the two to follow. "Please, follow me."

She led them to a small white door in the large building and the three of them stepped inside.

Unfortunately, their presence hadn't gone completely unnoticed. In the heap of all the people passing by the hospital, not many had reacted on the strange scene of a large shinigami pulling along a seemingly concealed smaller one. But the sword one had carried under his arm made two persons stop in their footsteps. None other than Renji and Rukia.

"Did you see that?" Renji asked, his voice dumbfounded. "Didn't that look like… Ichigo's soul-cutter?"

"But wasn't that Isshin!" Rukia said, pulling at Renji's sleeve. "He's a shinigami!" She burst out only seconds later, realising what she had seen.

"What is he doing here, Renji?" She asked Renji even if she knew he didn't know. "What he's doing here with Unohana?"

"I don't know. But who was that with them?"

"You don't think…!" Rukia bit her lip, not letting her hope rise. Had it been Ichigo Isshin had with him? But they had heard rumours that he had been killed. She had already mourned over Ichigo, she didn't want to go over it all again. But Renji still turned and looked at her, his expression unreadable.

He looked back at where the strange figures had disappeared to behind the large building. He wanted to follow, to confirm that he had seen right. Had it really been Ichigo's weapon? Had to be. That soul-cutter was too easy to spot. But they couldn't follow now, a meeting with Byakuya Kuchiki, the captain of the Gotei 13, forcing them to leave. They walked away, an odd worry rising in Rukia's heart.

Inside the hospital Isshin and Ichigo were lead through wide halls. After they had gone indoors, Ichigo had noticed that the intense smell of the spirit-particles was not so strong here. The walls were different. They were cool and dull and seemed to somehow have a dampening effect on the force of the spirit-energy. Had they cast some kind of kidõ on the walls?

The corridors were empty and Isshin wondered if Unohana had ordered them to be cleared. They headed down some stairs, underneath the building and Isshin became worried. He had been here before and the walls here were heavily enforced. But then again he had told Unohana he wanted to keep Ichigo's visit a secret and he knew she understood that. She also knew he wasn't supposed to be in Soul Society either. So it was probably for the best that they were kept underground.

They didn't walk far until the trio stopped in front of a door that the fourth division leader opened. The room they entered was rather large and it held two normal beds and one for patients.

"This is our long-term hospital room," Unohana explained. "Visitors can sleep in the same room as the patient here."

Isshin stepped inside, looking around. There was a personal toilet and a sink in one rooms and a small wardrobe. Ichigo followed, sitting down on one of the beds and took off the kerchief. There was no need to hide his hair and masked face here.

"I'll leave for you to get comfortable while I get things ready. I will return in a few hours," Unohana said and bowed gently toward Isshin before she turned and left.

Ichigo drew a breath of relief. It was hard enough being around just his father.

He leaned back, lying down on one of the beds. He felt tired, his head feeling like it was about to implode. He felt a migraine coming and every movement made it worse, all due to the horrible amount of self control he needed and didn't really have.

Every muscle in his body was sore and tense from the strain. And he had only been here for an hour at most. He groaned. This wasn't going to work.

"It's going to be fine, Ichigo," Isshin said, seeming to have read his mind. "She will help. If she wasn't intending to, she wouldn't have taken the act so far. She's not the type to play a ruse."

"We don't trust shinigami," Ichigo mumbled, his voice still a tad darker than it was supposed to be.

Sighing, Ichigo looked away from Isshin and reached for his small bag, taking out the metal container. Sitting up he glared at his father who was staring at him. Looking away, Isshin decided that he needed to go to the bathroom.

Ichigo finished his meal out of sight, glad his father didn't look. He couldn't stop himself from eating a lot of it, even if he knew he should save, but the urge to kill everything around him was still just beneath his skin.

Once he had hurriedly managed to consume his food, he was rather noisy about putting the container on the table to show that he was done. Almost instantly his father stepped out, smiling slightly at his son. Ichigo did nothing to acknowledge him and turned to lie on his side, facing away from Isshin. It was so hard for him to look at this father, let alone being stuck in a small room with him. But, something in the walls made it easier to be in the world that was Soul Society. He couldn't stop himself from asking.

"The walls are different in here," Ichigo whispered and his eyes narrowed slightly as he stared at the ceiling and he licked his dry lips.

At first Isshin only looked at him questioningly. But then his eyes brightened as he realised what Ichigo meant.

"Oh!" He burst out, smiling. "Well, you see, normal walls in most buildings here allow spirit-energy and sound to pass through. But in these walls they have put a bit of spirit reducing stone in them. Spirit reducing stone don't let any spirit-energy through, nor sound. They have it so that the patients can recover in peace without sensing or hearing the person next door," Isshin explained. "But not too much of course so the nurses can still hear if someone is in distress."

"Oh… Makes sense," Ichigo said quietly.

"I'm surprised you noticed," Isshin received a glare for his statement.

"We're hollow. We can smell and feel spirit-energy from very far away. It's… hard to be around."

"How?" Isshin asked, his smile gone and face worried now.

"Ah, it's nothing," Ichigo brushed it off, not wanting to have to explain. He turned to lie on his side again, his back facing his father.

Getting the message Isshin fell silent. The silence remained like a layer of toxic for quite some time and Ichigo wondered if he was having trouble breathing because of it or if the honey smell from all the shinigami inside the building was growing thicker with every minute.

Yet time moved, even if it felt unnaturally slow and eventually Unohana returned. Ichigo couldn't decide whenever he liked that or not. Nevertheless she was there and he couldn't stop staring at the brilliant light that was her.

To Ichigo's worry only he was asked to come. At first he hesitated, but since his father didn't ask about it and gave Ichigo a reassuring nod, he guessed it was alright. He didn't want to trust but right now it felt like he had no choice.

"Why can't our father come?" Ichigo asked, not liking the idea of being alone with so many shinigami.

"I'm afraid Isshin can't come because he might make bad decisions because he's personally involved, " Unohana said as she turned to look behind her at the boy.

"Oh..." was all Ichigo said, understanding. It made sense.

He was led through the strangely feeling corridors again and not far away from where they had come Unohana stopped in front of a door and opened it. Inside the nurses, including Unohana herself, were wearing white coats, mouth protections and latex gloves. It reminded Ichigo a lot of earth. Except for that they were all glowing immensely. He could just barely make out the colours of their clothes.

The smell and pressure of all the shinigami inside the room made Ichigo stop in his tracks. He exhaled as much as he could and fought the instincts to inhale again. He was a ghost, just a formation of spiritual particles. He didn't need to breathe.

Seemingly unaware of Ichigo's struggles, Unohana motioned for Ichigo to sit down on a regular examination bed. Doing as he was told and hopping up to sit on it, he pushed his fingers into his eyes as it seemed to be the only thing that slowly stopped his increasing headache and urge to kill.

After a few minutes that Ichigo wished had lasted longer, Unohana touched his arm to get his attention. Instinctively Ichigo pulled back, expecting to be burned.

"I'm sorry!" She pulled her arm back, startled at his reaction.

Ichigo only looked at her, his own surprised expression not showing from beneath the mask and Unohana couldn't tell what had happened. She looked away for a few seconds, uncertain how to behave in front of the expressionless hollow.

"Are you alright?"

"Your touch... It doesn't burn our skin?" Ichigo asked perplexedly.

"Maybe the gloves stop it? We use them so we won't contaminate patients with our own spirit-energy and to not get the wrong readings or results from tests."

"Maybe," Ichigo mumbled in response, staring at the gloves. All these preparations made Ichigo suspicious. Before he became hollow, he had had no problems with others spirit-energy. But maybe that was because he had just been horrible at sensing it? Maybe some people became sensitive when ill. Yet he couldn't help but wonder if all the precautions were all a nice set up to make him feel comfortable, or hide something from him. To build up a façade of something good. Too good.

"Before we do anything, I'd like you to put on this mouth protection," Unohana went on, unaware of his thoughts and pulled the white mouth protection she had had around her neck over her mouth as if demonstrating. "We don't know what we are dealing with here after all."

Taking the white protection he was given, Ichigo managed to get it over his head with some difficulty on his own.

"Alright Ichigo, I'm going to have to give you mild sedative so you will remain calm. Your father said you might have a difficult time around shinigami."

"We're not going to fall asleep are we?"

"No, it will just make you calmer," Unohana said, smiling gently and removing a syringe from its plastic encasing that kept it sterile and filled it with a clear liquid.

Moving his white claws over his unresponsive arm, Ichigo's frown deepened underneath the mask. He didn't like it. But then again, it might be easier, because now he couldn't sit or even breathe properly. He looked around, trying to think straight, but he couldn't see past the ranging instincts he could feel pressing against his mind. Maybe the sedative would still the beast as well. They were supposed to help after all, weren't they? He scoffed at that.

"Fine," he said. He had come all the way here so might as well.

"Alright, give me your arm."

Literally doing as he was told, he lifted up his left arm and placed the limp hand in her's. She didn't seem too surprised by that, which Ichigo hadn't expected.

"Did dad tell you...?"

"Yes, Isshin told me about your conditions when he explained the situation and why you would like to come for help. A shinigami katana poisoned the arm, right?"

Ichigo nodded and didn't take his eyes off the needle that slid underneath the unresponsive skin.

"You are lucky it didn't spread further from such a large wound," She said and removed the syringes and dabbed the spot with a small, soft cloth. "Alright, that should take a few minutes to take effect, and hopefully it should make you feel better."

"Hopefully?" He lifted his eyebrows underneath the mask.

Unohana looked up from where she had placed the used syringe and looked him in the eyes, which Ichigo immediately had to advert his gaze from to not be blinded by the intense light.

"I'm afraid I haven't had that much experience with hollows before," She smiled solemnly, as if apologizing.

It didn't take very long time before Ichigo felt groggy and his reflexes seemed to become sluggish. At least it felt like the beast within had dulled along with him. As in a daze he watched the nurses run back and forth around him and shine annoying lights in his eyes. There were tests, too many for Ichigo's liking. He had nothing against needles or IV's, but it did bother him when he had more than three IV's in his arm.

It was unsettling to see everyone move in front of him without really caring, or being able to care. All he felt was the harsh pulse of his sleeping beast drumming in his ears. It made him scared of the roar it would cause when waking up.

After three hours Ichigo stepped out of the examination room and Isshin was patiently waiting inside the small guest room, seeming to be reading some papers. He got up as soon as he heard the door open.

Without saying anything Ichigo stepped past his father and fumbled for Zangetsu that lay upon one of the beds. He felt numb as he moved to lie down on it. He exhaled deeply, so very glad to be away from the nurses.

Isshin and Unohana talked in hushed voices in the doorway, about something Ichigo didn't want to listen too. He couldn't focus, couldn't care. He was so, so numb. In a scary way it reminded him of when he hadn't had a heart, when he hadn't had a soul, just a shell with no emotions. Shuddering, Ichigo pushed his face into the soft pillow.

"Are you alright?" The question came close to his ear and Ichigo drew back a bit, not having heard his father leave the doorway.

Ichigo sighed and turned around in the bed with a bit of an effort, looking past Isshin at the roof. "Yeah, we're okay."

"Did they do anything you didn't like?" asked Isshin, a bit worried over how drained Ichigo seemed.

"They didn't do anything suspicious yet, but we don't like the sedative they gave us," Ichigo mumbled to his father. "We can't focus."

"It doesn't help at all?"

"No, it helps, but everything gets all fuzzy... We... eh, we don't know what they are doing!" Ichigo sighed loudly. "We get all sluggish and can't keep up," Ichigo sighed. "Can't you be there too?" He added after some silence.

"I can ask, but I shouldn't Ichigo. I will make the wrong decisions because I'm your father."

"Can't you at least sit outside with Zangetsu?"

"I..." Isshin mumbled. "I guess I hadn't thought of that. Of course I can."

Crawling in under the bed covers, Ichigo tried to sleep. He couldn't sleep at all; anxiousness and worry filling him through out the night. He had no clue what time it was from the bunker he was in, but sometime after Isshin had fallen asleep, Ichigo quietly got up, taking the bed covers with him.

Being as silent as he could ever be, Ichigo slipped into the bathroom, where he turned of the lights and sat down the cold floor. He made sure the door was tightly closed behind him, blocking out any light from the bed room. His father had been shining too much, the glow mesmerising in the dark room and Ichigo had found himself staring. He had felt the beast in his veins growl and his instincts take a jab at him. Squeezing his eyes shut, Ichigo slid to the marble floor.

Moving the bed covers so they covered his head, Ichigo did his bed to sleep through nightmares. There were many of them, and Ichigo found himself screaming when the white covers were pulled off him unexpectedly. Barring his teeth, Ichigo hissed.

"Ichigo!" Isshin called, quickly handing Ichigo Zangetsu, throwing it at him as if he was throwing meat to a lion. Ichigo fell quiet, grabbing at the cloth that surrounded his weapon. His breathing clamed down and Ichigo curled together tighter on the ground where he sat.

"What time is it?" He mumbled, finding it embarrassing that he had screamed.

Smiling slightly, Isshin reached out a hand that, to Ichigo's surprise, was clad in a pair of those gloves Unohana had been wearing.

"It's afternoon. I figured you would have a hard time sleeping so I let you be when I noticed you in here," Isshin smiled as he pulled Ichigo to his feet. "Why did you sleep in here?"

"Uh…" Ichigo sighed. How was he going to explain this? "We're dead and dull. You are sparkling with life that we crave. It shines around you, it shines along with everything else alive. We can see life all around us, constantly reminding us that we are dead. When the life we have stolen fades, so does the world and it loose its colours, making everything either black or white. We hunt for that which shines in the growing darkness." Ichigo said, moving out of the toilet and sitting down on the bed, putting the bed-cover back where it belonged, "the world becomes nothing more than a simple black and white. Do or die._ Kill_ or die."

Isshin didn't say anything at first, only swallowing uneasily when Ichigo looked his way.

"It's just how it is," Ichigo went on, "and there's nothing we can do but to live with it." He lowered his head, his face sad beneath the ever present bone mask.

"I wish I could help." Isshin said and sat down next to his son, "… is there anything I can do?"

"You can stay further away," Ichigo said, hoping he didn't sound too offending.

"I understand," Isshin said simply and rose again, sitting down on the other bed. "Um, Unohana is waiting. She said it was alright that I sat outside."

Ichigo got up without a word and handed Zangetsu to Isshin.

"Take care of it alright?"

"Of course."

They both headed up the stairs this time, walking together to the examination room. A comfortable chair had been placed outside the room and gladly Isshin sat down in it as Ichigo walked past him and into the room, his posture remarkably stiff. Isshin wanted to help, but even Ichigo had asked him to stay away. Sighing and moving a hand through his beard, Isshin placed Ichigo's cleaver next to the chair and leaned it against the wall.

It seemed like even this hall was closed off, because no nurses came or leaved the room. No one passed Isshin kept a straight face, knowing that he could be needed at any time.

He could hear muffled voices from behind the door next to him, but not much else. But, he could tell whenever Ichigo is saying something, due to the distinctly different and dark voice. It was odd, but yet Isshin found it a bit relaxing, because as long as he could hear Ichigo talk instead of scream, things were hopefully going well.

The day went pass and after a couple of hours Ichigo stepped out of the room looking rather exhausted. He glanced wearily at his father who got up from his chair.

"They took some more samples, even from the disease growing out of our ear," he mumbled and rubbed his left arm. Ichigo knew the arm would probably be red and perhaps even irritated if he had had any blood.

"The shinigami seemed very concerned about our couching and the vomits attacks we told them about," Ichigo went on as the two of them once again returned to their guest quarters. "We, um, we can't tell if it's for the better and they drugged us pretty heavily again, it's uncomfortable but we can't stay in there if they don't…" Ichigo sighed.

"Ichigo, I was the one that suggested they should almost sedate you," Isshin said turned to face his son. "If you don't like it, I can tell them to stop."

"No, it's alright," Ichigo responded. "It was a good call. We just don't like it, but they can't help at all if they don't. We're not stupid. If they didn't drug us so heavily, we would have killed them all after fifteen minutes in that room. At least if you're outside we can call for help if something comes up."

"I will come as soon as I hear anything suspicious; I'm here for your sake, not theirs. Don't ever think anything different, Ichigo." Isshin looked his son in the eyes, meeting his gaze.

"We won't," Ichigo said lowly and turned around, his eyes squeezing together at the intense light.

"They don't seem to know what they are doing," Ichigo went on after lying down in his bed again, feeling numb, "they just take a lot of samples and asks odd questions that doesn't really have anything to do with us but could apply to other patients. It's like they have a certain type of questions they have to ask everyone whenever it relevant or not."

"Ah, well, they don't know what they are dealing with Ichigo. I'm sure none of those nurses ever dreamed about treating someone like you. It's just hard for them to know where to start."

_Someone like you_. Ichigo's eyes narrowed at Isshin's words, but didn't say anything about it. He was too suspicious as it was.

Remaining silent and ignoring his father for now, Ichigo fell asleep, the sedatives getting the better off him, as the nurses already had to up the doses by his own request.

Three days passed, with Ichigo being heavily drugged through out the sessions. The shinigami never did anything too suspicious, but Ichigo didn't let his guard down. He was sure he noticed a slight difference in their behaviour after Isshin had started waiting outside. One time Ichigo had been so paranoid that he had had to go outside and make sure that his father was still there.

The samples seemed to give no results to Ichigo as they only took more and more. It worried Ichigo, because the longer they took the more the fungus grew. But he had nothing to go with either, they hadn't been here for very long after all, but everyday felt like an eternity for him. Maybe it was because of the sedatives and the nutrients, he didn't know.

On the fourth day, Ichigo was once again back in the hospital room after another rather sleepless night. Isshin had asked for bed curtains to be put up around Ichigo's bed, but it hadn't helped. Sure the light from his father hadn't been so pressing, but the smell was still there, and the door to the bathroom was better at blocking it than the curtains.

The nurses seemed to get unsure what to do with Ichigo by now, and they didn't pay him much attention this time. They seemed keener on talking amongst each other and with Unohana. But Ichigo didn't mind, he found it rather good actually because the further away the nurses were, the better.

As Ichigo sat there, legs curled up against his chest and his arm wrapped around them while he leaning against the raised up bed, a sudden itch in Ichigo's throat made him clear his throat.

"Is something wrong?" One of the nurses asked Ichigo, blinding him with her gaze.

"It's just our throat," Ichigo said, shrugging it off, wanting her to leave.**  
**  
The itch didn't want to stop and he had to stick his finger into his dry mouth to try and scratch the back of his throat. As he did, his eyes pulled together and he started coughing. Wrenching his hand out, the itch escalated badly with every cough and Ichigo could feel the taste of blood rise in his throat.

Before he knew it, thick liquid welled out of his mouth and in a rush of panic Ichigo tore the mouth protection off his masked face. The phlegm ran down the edge of the bed and Ichigo heaved.

The nurses around him rushed, some disgusted, some sympathetic, but none sure of what to do. Ichigo could smell the fear reek from them, but even so one of them tried to get closer. Ichigo hissed at her, the contagious saliva spraying everywhere as he projectile vomited.

"Watch out!" Unohana warned. "Don't get too close!"

But it was too late; three other nurses had already stepped forward to try to hold Ichigo down and calm him. At the call of their captain they let go of the boy, but saliva had already splattered on them.

"Get them out," Unohana said, pointing at two other nurses to help them. They were quickly escorted out of the room.

As Unohana did her best trying to control her nurses and staying away from the boy at the same time, Ichigo himself was starting to panicking, the episode not wanting to subside.

"Hhh-H-help!" He managed to slur out, but none of the angels around him helped. Inwardly he cursed them, knowing full well that all this that happened now was in the end because of them. Of course they would not help now.

Half the bed was soaked and Ichigo could feel his body starting to sag together, the attack rapidly draining him.

At the sound of his son, Isshin quickly got to his feet out in the hall and burst into the room, the chaotic scene of running nurses making him stop in his tracks.

"What's going on!" He shouted, but before he got an answer, he spotted Ichigo on the bed.

"You're son his having some sort of attack and we can't go near him or we will get whatever he's throwing up on us! Two nurses have already been forced to leave to get detained."

"Give me that!" Isshin shouted, his face flushed with anger as he tore Unohana's mouth protection off her to put it on himself. Shocked, she rushed to get another one for herself.

"Ichigo!" Isshin shouted, hurrying up to his convulsing son. Carefully he touched his shoulder and as expected he was shoved away. "Calm down, you have to stay still and wait for it to pass, so it won't get on someone else!"

He got no response from his son, only receiving a scared look when another wave hit Ichigo. Isshin stepped away, afraid to get the saliva on him. "Ichigo," Isshin repeated, unsure of what to do.

But as Isshin was about to grab for his son again, Ichigo suddenly stiffened and then sagged together. He slumped over the bed, smearing his mask in the wet bed as his eyes rolled into his skull. Behind him on the other side of the bed, Unohana stood, the syringe clearly visible in her hand.

"I'm sorry, Isshin," she said. "I had to stop him."

Swallowing uneasily below the mouth protection, Unohana cautiously grabbed Ichigo. Carefully she moved him, his head rolling on his shoulders uncontrollably. She shifted him so he lay on his back and placed a new protection over his mouth before stepping away.

Isshin knew it was the only way to stop Ichigo, since the attack seeming to have no end. But Unohana's actions still bothered him a great deal. He knew he could only watch because he wasn't wearing protective clothes. It was too dangerous for him to go close and to even be in the room. But he couldn't leave now, he had to make sure his son was treated right.

As he watched, Unohana ordered three nurses to go and get a hazmat stretcher and come back properly dressed. Isshin himself was told to go back to his quarters for now. At first he refused, but Unohana insisted there was no time for him to get dressed and that he should stay out of harms way. Feeling unsure and a bit in the way as nurses and Unohana rushed about, trying to clean the mess up, Isshin knew Unohana was right.

He stepped outside, not sure what to do or feel as he watch the three nurses return, now completely dressed in thick plastic scrubs from head to toe with a stretcher on wheels in front of them.

Disappearing from Isshin's view and entering the room, they grabbed at the Ichigo's limp body, carefully hoisting his body up on the stretcher. Carefully they moved a transparent plastic cover over the stretcher, to quarantine Ichigo from others inside it. Once he was secured they hurried out of the examination room.

They rushed past corridors that weren't cleared, back in the normal hospital parts and Unohana walked ahead, telling people to move out of the way. They headed for the showers, to clean the hollow they had with them.

Once there, two of the heavily dressed nurses started to clean the boy. They scrubbed hard at his grey skin and carefully they cleaned his mouth and upper body free from the sticky substance.

They did their best to not get any water into the boy's lungs, but even if the danger seemed to have passed, Ichigo was still twitching badly and his muscles were tense. It was hard to move his limbs around even after they had taken off the black, soaked uniform.

"Burn his clothes," Unohana ordered, not wanting to take any risks. The third nurse did as commanded, placing the clothes she was handed in a plastic bag that was located under the stretcher. She removed it and walked out of the room.

When Ichigo was deemed clean, he was dressed in simple white scrubs himself and put back onto the stretcher and taken back to the examination room. There they sedated the boy properly, but even so his twitching wouldn't really stop. His breathing was uneven but his eyes remained closed, his drugged mind unable to wake up despite his body's struggles.

Deeming the boy harmless for now and not sure how to proceed just yet, Unohana sought it best to let the boy rest in the guest room with his father until they knew what to do.

Isshin was briefed of the situation and was given a mouth protection and scrubs to put over his black uniform.

A drip was given to Ichigo to moisturise his body from all the liquid he had lost after the plastic cover was removed and not much more could be done. The thought to give him an IV with blood crossed Isshin's mind, but he knew it would be outrageous to ask.

The sedatives didn't really help to make his son relax even if Isshin insisted that they should give him something stronger. Isshin watched his son for hours, sitting next to him and talking gently, hoping the sound of his voice would comfort Ichigo. Eventually Unohana returned, worry clear in her eyes as she stepped into the room silently, meeting Isshin gaze.

"I just came to see how he was doing and adjust his drip," Unohana said gently. Isshin nodded at her and moved away, giving her better access.

"But of course that isn't necessary I see now," Unohana said after checking Ichigo's drip.

She turned to Isshin, smiling kindly. "Your son is lucky to have such a skilled doctor as a father and I understand it must be very hard not to be allowed to help more. I am sorry about that."

"No it's fine, I know I should not be there, at least I can sit outside to make Ichigo feel safer," Isshin said and sighed slightly and took hold of his son's hand, which still lay shaking in the bed, his legs and hand still trembling severely. His body twitched as if hit by tremors from time to time, despite the drugs.

Isshin knew there was nothing he could do. The only thing he could and should be doing was to comfort his son.

"You should rest too, Isshin. There's nothing we can do yet," Unohana said gently.

"I know, but he's scared of being here, even if he doesn't say it. I want him to know I'm here for him when he wakes up."

Smiling at him and nodding in understanding, Unohana let go of his shoulder and left the room. Hours passed and Ichigo didn't seem to want to still, even if Isshin held his hand and stroked his hair.

Eventually sleep gripped Isshin even as he tried to stay awake into the small hours of the night and he slumped into the chair he sat in, his hand slipping from Ichigo's.

Isshin was startled awake at it, but as he fumbled after his son's hand again, he found nothing. Waking up fully, Isshin found the place where Ichigo's bed had been empty. His hand was cold and he had slept for hours before waking up and realising his son was gone.

Rushing to his feet, Isshin spun on the spot. Only the bed was gone, nothing else. No wait. Isshin stared at the small table next to where Ichigo had slept. Ichigo's canister of that grey food was gone too.

Pulling a hand through his black hair and trying not to let to panic grip him, Isshin left the guest room, his hand grabbing at the hand of his sword subconsciously.

As soon as he had ascended the stairs, he saw Unohana heading his way. He met her halfway. Before he had the chance to voice his objections however, Unohana cut him off.

"Isshin, your son has been quarantined because the nurses that treated him yesterday aren't feeling well," Unohana said very seriously. "I fear that they have been infected as well. That's why I placed your son in quarantine for now so he won't infect any others."

Isshin's eyes widened at the news.

"What?" He said stupidly.

"I was just coming to hand you this quick report I managed to put together on their condition and how it is similar to your sons. It's results from the DNA and spirit-energy tests."

Hastily, Isshin grabbed the papers. Quickly he skimmed through them, looking at the results from both his son and one of the nurses. Yes, there were traces of that odd life form in the nurses as well.

Isshin lifted his gaze to meet with Unohana, his expression shocked.

"How could this have happened? You, you were all wearing more than enough protection! Even Ichigo was!" Isshin stammered. "Nothing should have happened!"

"I don't know how it happened either, but the results from the tests say more than enough. We don't know what we are dealing with Isshin and I had to act quickly and get your son away from contaminating others!"

Looking back at the papers, Isshin's grip on them tightened. He wasn't really sure how he was going to react.

"Can I see him?" He still had to see him. He couldn't stand the thought of having his son being taken away from him like that right under his nose.

"You can't see him right now, Isshin. There's no time. I just came here quickly to tell you what has happened personally. I should go as soon as I can and get back to work," Unohana said, but then she frowned, knowing Isshin deserved better. "Because of what has happened we don't have time for visitors. But maybe in a few days when things have calmed down?"

"I should be able to help!" Isshin said, starting to feel desperate.

"I know, but I've had to call in other nurses and I'm not sure if they might recognise you or not. It's not safe for your own sake Isshin."

"I don't care. It's my son we are talking about. I took him here and he should know I'm there for him no matter what happens!"

"I understand you feelings Isshin, but I have to object," Unohana said. "I can't have you there while we work, even if you stay out of the way. It will be distracting. You have to understand this Isshin."

"But..." Isshin breathed, his eyes once again falling back on the papers in his hand.

"Go rest. Sleep well with the knowledge that we will take care of your son. I promise Isshin. I will inform you as soon as we have made any progress or if I see it fit to let your son out of the isolation room," Unohana smiled gently. "But I have to leave now."

"I should still be able to help somehow!" Isshin begged.

"I'm sorry Isshin. I have to go," Unohana turned on her spot and started walking away, leaving Isshin in her tracks.

At first Isshin only stood there, his gaze flickering between the papers and the place Unohana had been. As he folded the parchments in his hands, he slowly turned on the spot and started heading back to his quarters.

The place where Ichigo's bed had been was of course as empty as when he left and Isshin stared at the empty floor in an attempt to gather his thoughts. It didn't help.

He lay down on the remaining bed, feeling his mind reel and a massive headache forming. Slowly he rubbed his eyes. What had he done? He couldn't shake the horrible news that his son and indirectly him may have caused an outbreak in Soul Society. What if the nurses got as ill as Ichigo and they too started vomiting that vile, contagious saliva?

What... What if that had been Aizen's plan all along? Ichigo had clearly said that he had sent him back to his father as soon he had started getting the odd symptoms.

Isshin's hands covered his face. What had he done?

**End of Chapter**


	35. No friend of mine

**Chapter 35: No friend of mine**

Four dayspassed with Isshin's ever growing worry. What caused the worst of it was the fact that even after all this time he hadn't been given the chance to see his son. At first he hadn't questioned it, still unsure of what he might have caused. That he might have bought an epidemic to Soul Society.

But perhaps that was even the more reason for him to talk to Ichigo. But when he asked Unohana about it, she gave him no meaningful words. Something was amiss.

Isshin knew what the quarantine rooms used to look like; there was a glass window you could look through, a bed, a desk and a chair. You could even talk to the person inside through an intercom. There shouldn't be a problem for him to visit. Yet, Unohana kept dismissing him, telling him that he couldn't see Ichigo any time soon and then left in a hurry every time. Something wasn't right.

At the end of the fifth day, Isshin couldn't ignore the feeling. It was coiling inside his body, twisting his soul and forcing him to act. Once more he headed to the room where Ichigo had been treated, not really knowing what he'd expect to see there. It was a place to start.

When he entered was there only a lonesome nurse. She seemed to be cleaning and had been for sometime. There was no trace of Ichigo in there any more.

"Where's my son?" Isshin asked the nurse.

Startled, she almost dropped the tray she was carrying. "Oh, I didn't hear you come!" she said, a smile twitching on her lips. "I'm afraid I don't who was in here last, I'm just cleaning it so new patients can use it."

So, it had been a while since Ichigo had been here. They wouldn't send in a nurse to make it look proper again before decontaminating and cleaning the room spotless themselves. Isshin's hand curled into a fist.

"Maybe you can ask in the reception," the nurse offered, putting the tray's contents where it belonged.

Nodding, Isshin turned briskly on his heel. She didn't know anything.

He headed out into the white corridor again, opening every door that was closed along the hall he walked through, finding no sign of his son. Walking through a pair of white swing-doors, Isshin suddenly found himself among a lot of people.

He had come out in the entrance hall of the hospital. Both shinigami and poor souls wandered in and out the large doors opposite of where he stood. Some sat on the many chairs or leaned against the walls.

It was a busy day at the hospital and no one had noticed him come out from the two doors that had big, clear letters reading 'Personal Only' on them.

Clearing his throat quietly and remaining calm, Isshin walked up the reception and waited in line. It was hard for him to remain quiet. He wanted to scream and shout, to ask everyone if they had seen his son.

He didn't look at anyone, averting his gaze whenever someone seemed to look his way. He was just another shinigami. Not exiled. Just like everyone else. Not bringing a so-called war criminal to the hospital in secret.

"How can I help you, sir?" An impatient voice sounded, as if she was repeating herself.

"Ah yes," Isshin said to the receptionist and smiled nervously. He couldn't shout at her, demand things of her she wouldn't know.

"I can't find my son," he said. "He's somewhere in this hospital. Ichigo Kurosaki," Isshin really hoped the last name wouldn't stir any memory of hers of old former captains.

"Just give me a moment," she said, looking through a bunch of papers.

"He's easy to spot. He's got blond hair, hinting to orange," Isshin said, unable to stop himself. He leaned over the counter, trying to see if he could get some sort of hint from the computer screen. He was given a stern look and he stood up properly, knowing that woman wouldn't like him to peep.

"I'm afraid I can't find anything on a Ichigo Kurosaki," She said after a while, neatly folding whatever papers she had been reading back together again and clicking something away on the screen with the mouse. "I can't see that anyone with that name has been released either. Are you sure you got the name right?"

"Yes. Maybe he was released a while ago and no one told me."

"Are you sure? That would be odd."

"Yes, but you know what, I'll go and ask the nurses that helped him," Isshin said and left before the receptionist could answer. He hadn't expected her to know. Of course Unohana wouldn't let any of the information be in the computer system. But it was worth a shot.

He walked away, not wanting to cause a fuzz or seem odd. He didn't know how quickly people would get suspicious around here. He had to be careful.

Heading for the areas that weren't off-limits for other nurses than the ones knowing about Ichigo, Isshin entered one of the wards.

"Have you seen a boy with blond hair, hinting to orange? He's easy to spot," Isshin asked the closest nurse who was sorting someone's medication.

She turned around, smiling at him. But it was strained, as if it was just a practised ritual that came automatically.

"No, I haven't," she said, the smile turning into concern. "What's his name? Have you asked in the reception?"

"Yes, I asked. His name is Kurosaki Ichigo."

"I don't recognise it. I'd have to say you should ask in the reception again," The nurse said, her concern genuine and she took forth a list of all the patients in the room. "No," she shook her head. "No Kurosaki here I'm afraid. You should go back to the reception and ask them to check again."

"Alright, I'll do that. Thank you," Isshin smiled and stepped out of the room. He didn't want the woman to go around telling everyone he was looking for someone. They would ask for his name and press for the reasons why he was looking for someone that wasn't here.

He headed for the next ward, asking other nurses at different places, hoping no one would notice that he had asked everywhere. No one recognized the name, or Isshin's brief description of his son. Maybe if he asked if they had seen a boy with a white hollow mask and a hole through his chest, they'd know more. But he couldn't.

Eventually he didn't care who he asked and pressed nurses that were just passing by for information, but no one knew anything. None had seen an orange haired boy.

But as he was about to leave, he saw from the corner of his eyes someone he recognised. It was one of the nurses that had worked with Ichigo. He had seen her enter the room and leave again a couple of times the first few days. But she hadn't been there when Ichigo had vomited and been taken away.

She wouldn't know where he was being kept if she hadn't been informed of the status of his son later. She wouldn't know where he could be now, would she? He turned around, about to call out for her and stop her. But as he did, she was gone. Quickly he rushed up the three-way split corridor, looking down all of them for a sign of her.

Isshin cursed himself for missing her and doubted if it had really been her. He headed down one of the corridors, hoping maybe he would see the woman through one of the windows in the many white doors. He couldn't see her anywhere. Maybe he had mistaken her for someone else? He had seen one nurse with the same hair colour, but it hadn't been her.

Frustrated, he entered one of the wards he had already been in on his way back. As he did, hoping to perhaps see someone new to ask, he saw the woman that had been at the reception.

"I heard you been looking for this, Kurosaki a lot in other wards mister. I tripled checked. He's not here mister...?"

"I-" Isshin didn't know what to say, caught off guard. "I must have been mistaken."

"Do you need any assistance?" She asked again, her voice stern and hinting to threatening.

"No, I don't. Thank you for all your help," Isshin said hastily and left.

He went back to his assigned quarters, as he knew he would soon be bought food. He knew it would be best if he was there when it arrived. He sat chewing at the noodles in the soup he had been given and silently wondered if it was poison so Unohana could get rid of him too. The stray thought disturbed him and Isshin put the spoon down on the table. His sturdy fingers twitched slightly as he fiddled with the chinaware before he pushed the bowl away from himself, unable to eat any more.

He didn't stay long in his quarters, unable to sit still. Quickly he headed for the ward where they had isolation rooms. Ichigo was supposed to be in there, wasn't he? But as he turned a corner, he stopped and turned around sharply on his heel before he had fully come around it.

Guards. Four of them at the entrance.

Isshin backed away and hoped he hadn't been seen. They wouldn't let him pass, he knew that. They were probably under strict orders from Unohana not to let him pass.

Yet, the fact that there were guards was somehow comforting, knowing that perhaps Unohana wasn't bending the truth and he was just being paranoid. Was his son in there?

Knowing it wouldn't be wise to go up against the guards and that he would surely be attacked before he was allowed access, Isshin withdrew for now.

At loss of what to do, he started to head back to his own quarters again, knowing he was being kept in the dark. Unohana was avoiding him, the nurses that were claimed sick were nowhere to be seen and no one else had a clue what was going on either. It was probably only a handful of shinigami that knew about Ichigo. No more than twenty at most. Pulling his hand through his hair, Isshin felt himself starting to panic.

Were all the nurses sick, except for the one he had missed before? That would explain the guards. But how could Unohana let all the other people remain in the hospital? Wouldn't it be wiser to evacuate the building? Or had she evacuated the nurses and Ichigo instead? That seemed like the wisest thing to do. Where could she have taken them if she had? He had to ask her!

The next day Isshin got up early and grabbed both his and his son's cleaver. The weapon was heavy, but he didn't dare to leave in the room anymore. He loosened a bit of the cloth that surrounded the black steel to tie it over his chest to carry it over his back much like Ichigo did.

Heading out and back in the queue to the reception, Isshin impenitently waited for his turn. All the while he slowly moved closer, he could see the receptionists eyes flicker to him once in a while when she didn't think he would see.

"Whoever this Ichigo is, he still isn't here," she said before Isshin had the chance to even step forward when he was the next in line. A nervous smile flickered over his lips.

"Ah, I'm not here for that," Isshin lied. "I'm looking for Captain Retsu Unohana."

"I'm afraid she is currently unavailable," The receptionist said, sounding like she was repeating herself like a broken record. Many people must have asked for her, her sudden unexpected absence odd. "She claimed earlier today that something important had come up that she needed to tend to. I was given no further instructions than that."

"Yeah, I bet it has." ... _Like stealing my son._

Isshin didn't say the last part and left, unable to constrain his temper for much longer. He stormed off, pressing for information at yet another ward in the hospital.

"Have you seen a boy with blond hair!" Isshin asked, his expression stressed and eyes wide. He had to find his son. What couldn't they have done after all these days? The thought of him breathing his son's dissolved spirit-energy particles made him turn to ice. But as his eyes flickered when he got no response, the recognised one of the nurses.

"You! I recognise you!" He rushed up to her, grabbing the collar of her white coat, and pushed her against the wall violently. She screamed and clamped her eyes shut from the attack, taken completely by surprise. "You were there with my son weren't you? You left before his episode!" Isshin shouted and pulled at her collar, threatening to lift her off the ground. "Tell me where Unohana has taken him!"

The nurse only stared at him, eyes as wide as his but in fear instead of a desperate search for answers.

"Security to Ward Eight, second floor."

Quickly Isshin turned his head, without letting go of the nurse.

"Sir, I have to ask you to leave," the woman that had called for security said.

Isshin's anger grew and he returned his attention to the nurse he had in his grip.

"I haven't seen your son!" She said, before Isshin could do anything. "I was only there the first two days! I'm sorry!" She begged and pulled her arms up and bent them over her chest, her hands over her mouth.

"Where did they take him!" Isshin shouted again.

"I don't know!" The nurse screamed, her voice begging, honest and scared.

Letting go, Isshin stepped away, but not letting his eyes off her. She cowered together against the wall, her arms up to protect her skull and legs bent and ready to dart away when she got the chance. She didn't know anything, it was too clear in her eyes and body language.

Without saying anything, Isshin turned around, glaring at the nurse that had called for security. She stepped back, but didn't cower together like most of the other people in the ward had.

Lifting a trembling arm up and pointing at the door, the nurse did her best to look strong. Grabbing the hilt of his own sword, Isshin huffed at her and left before security would get there. He knew they would arrive at any second.

Rushing though the corridors and hoping he wouldn't be found too soon, Isshin headed for the isolation wards. He stopped before the hallway bend and grabbed the hilt of his sword again, drawing from its calming energy just like Ichigo had done when they had first entered Soul Society together.

He focused his mind and drew from the power within him to summon strength for his spell. The Kidõ couldn't fail.

His eyes darted open, glowing a strong deep blue of his own spirit-energy. His middle and index finger pointed upwards whilst his thumb held the others close to his palm.

"Hakufuku!" He cried as he stepped around the corner, the White Crawl spell knocking the four guards out cold in an instant. In his mind he pictured them not knowing that he had been there or that they had ever seen him, the spell confusing their memories with whatever lie he wanted.

Quickly he ran past them, not knowing how long the guards would remain out cold. They could wake up at any second and not be affected by his tampering with their minds, or stay out cold for hours. He hoped for the latter.

Isshin burst into the ward, finding his way despite not having been here for many, many years. The corridors were empty. No Unohana rushing about. No one was helping infected women. He rushed forward, his eyes darting across the names of the rooms. Quarantine room one to five. Yes, this was it.

Pushing the first door open violently, Isshin found the bed in the encased room empty. No person on the lone chair. No one sitting in a corner. A new pang of worry hit Isshin square in the chest.

Quickly he moved out of the room, the door clattering shut behind him. He searched room after room. His son was in none of them.

Isshin grabbed at his hair, his hand pushed at his lips and he squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't know what to do.

Taking a deep breath, Isshin left the empty ward, his brisk walk turning into a run and Isshin stormed, knowing with his entire being that something ill had happened to his son. Why else would she station fake guards at the doors? The spirit-energy within him rushed as he passed a corner and almost ran into several guards.

"Sir," one of them said, giving him a stern look.

"What's going on?" Isshin blurted out, even if he knew full well what.

"We cannot have you running around the complex, sir," the same guard said, and Isshin didn't miss the hand that moved to rest on the hilt of the guard's soul-cutter. "Miss Unohana told us that you were to be sent home."

Sent back home! Isshin couldn't believe what he was hearing!

"I demand to see her!" Isshin said sternly.

"I'm right here, Isshin," The familiar soft voice said and the captain moved passed the guards. Her face saddened as she came closer.

"What's going on Unohana?" Isshin couldn't hide the anger in his voice.

At first she said nothing, Isshin remaining still, not knowing what to expect. Then her face turned into desperation and she looked the ex-captain straight in the eyes.

"More than the nurses that treated your son have gotten sick Isshin!" She burst out.

"What?" Isshin said, dumbfounded at the news. How could even more people be sick?

"I cannot let him go now; I have to help my own people, before it spreads too far!"

"What!" Isshin burst out, anger gripping him unexpectedly. His already hectic spirit-energy flared and instantly the guards surrounding Unohana grabbed the hilt of their swords.

"I will have to ask you to leave Isshin."

"I will not leave without my son!" Isshin said seriously, doing his best to keep his spiritual energy in check.

"I'm afraid that's out of the question," Unohana said sternly. "Either you leave; or I will have to tell the Captain General."

Isshin knew a threat when he heard it. He didn't know the exact consequences he would suffer for returning to Soul Society despite his exile, but he knew the consequences for harbouring a war criminal such as Ichigo wasn't something Captain General Yamato would like. The punishment would be severe. Especially now when it seemed like the shinigami did whatever they could to win the war against Aizen before it had even started.

"I'm sorry Isshin. But this is how it has to be. I have to put the lives of my own people before that of a hollow," Unohana said, her voice and eyes sincere.

"He's my son!"

"They are my nurses! My people! All of them are sick! Over fifteen people now! And more and more are getting sick!" Her voice grew angry. "How can I know if this wasn't any of your intention to begin with? How can I not know if you just brought the boy here to infect us all with that disease he was carrying!"

"You know I would never do such a thing!" Isshin burst out, staggering at the harsh accusation.

"Isshin," Unohana suddenly said calmly, her face becoming gentle again. "You are an old friend. But you are also an exiled shinigami and the harbourer of an illegal hollow. If anything I should have reported you as soon as you contacted me as an act of suspicion. But as a friend from old days I looked past it and decided to help. And now I am giving you the chance to leave without telling anyone that you were here."

"I will not leave without Ichigo."

"Take the offer before I change my mind Isshin," Unohana said, her voice still kind but Isshin knew it was a threat.

His lips turned into a fine line in his face and his eyes narrowed. Isshin didn't have much of a choice. Was this how Ichigo had had it? But without the option to leave freely? Knowing he had no choice but to leave, Isshin promised himself he would keep his son's cleaver safe until he could return it.

"Fine. I'll leave," Isshin said, his voice hard. "But you know I will not leave my son behind. I will return for him."

"I know Isshin. But you will have to do that without my cooperation," her voice was cold as ice.

With that Unohana glanced at one of the soldiers next to her and nodded slightly. The man straightened even more and drew his sword. Isshin couldn't help but to grab at his own katana's hilt better at that even if he knew the guard was only going to open the World Penetration Gate, the dimensional gateway mostly used to enter or leave Soul Society.

Thrusting his sword forward and turning, the guard summoned the gate. It took the form of two old Japanese sliding doors. Light shone from behind them and Unohana's guard stepped aside. Saying nothing, but drilling his eyes into Isshin's, he demanded him to go through.

Tightening the grip on both weapons he carried, Isshin heard the remaining guards move into a circle around him. They stepped closer, forcing Isshin into the gateway. However, just before he left, he turned around, looking the Captain in the eyes.

"I will not forget this Unohana. You are no longer a friend of mine."

**End of Chapter**


	36. Incarceration

**Chapter 36: Incarceration**

A throaty groan escaped swollen lips and Ichigo took a shaky breath.

The world swam around him as he attempted to move, letting his body adjust to just being conscious. He felt exhausted, groggy and he couldn't really focus, but he did recognize that he was lying on a floor, but not much else.

The sour stench and taste of vomit was his second sensation, followed by a throbbing pain in his head. He was lying on his side and when he tried to push himself up, Ichigo barely got his elbow under him. He paused to let the world settle before pushing up any further. After panting through the nausea and vertigo for a few moments, he blinked furiously; his blurry vision improving with every passing second.

The room he was in slowly took on solidity, and he was not surprised to see large manacles around his hands that were attached to a chain, which in turn were bolted to the floor. Looking around, the gray walls gave him no answer as to where he was. But as he saw muted light come in through the five _bars _that formed a door, enough to see an empty corridor outside, Ichigo was starting to realize where he was.

Inhaling sharply, it all came thundering back to him and Ichigo blinked out of his half-aware daze. He remembered the wave of nausea, the way his throat had clogged and how he couldn't breathe. But most of all, he remembered the sharp pinch in the back of his neck, the injection filling his veins and burning him up inside.

Ichigo went tense as his muscles recalled the fear that had gripped him as the tranquilizing shot took him over, consciousness flooding out as the bed he had struggled on had risen up to meet him. Then darkness, black and cold. And now here.

"No," he muttered, "no, no, no No NO!" Ichigo threw himself at the narrow entrance of the dim little cell, the chain stretching to its full length. He pulled and shouted, fear rolling up inside him like a dark tide.

Ichigo's cries echoed out along the corridors of the shinigami prison, ignored and unanswered.

Stepping back, the chain slackened and rattled against the concrete floor. Ichigo's breath was quick in his throat and his eyes darted back and forth in his eye-sockets.

He scanned the walls and floor, every inch for a way to escape. The room was a small perfect square with no windows. He could move from corner to corner, but not go near the bars; those were just out of his reach.

The only thing decorating the cell was an old mattress with a brown blanket that looked like it had been washed too many times and the brown spots wouldn't go away. The chain was broad and thick and the manacles icy cold against his numb skin.

Grabbing the steel, Ichigo took a deep breath and tugged at the chain. It didn't yield the least and Ichigo could feel Kidõ vibrate through his fingers. Magic he didn't understand. He let go of it as if it burned him, his expression grim.

Turning around, his eyes focused at the steel bars that glowed an uncomfortable gold. Black and blue spirit-energy vented from his pores and the strong scream that left Ichigo quickly faded as he saw every ounce of his energy evaporate into the spirit reducing stonewalls. They sucked it up like a dry sponge in water.

A deep breath; and then another. Without realising it he was hyperventilating, the tide of fear drowning him as his brain struggled to comprehend that there was no way out.

He was rapidly getting dizzy and his stomach was threatening to void itself again and all he could muster was to sit down and slide and pull himself away from the bars until his back was against one of the walls. Fighting down the woozy panic he held his bound hands against his pulled up knees .

Each breath came out as a wheezing cough. He gritted his teeth and tried to stifle his breathing in an attempt to relax, the tendons in his neck clearly visible. He knew he wouldn't get anywhere when panicked.

Eventually his breathing eased out and he stopped shaking. Doing his best to think rationally Ichigo figured that after he had collapsed in the room with Unohana and his father, someone must have given him an injection with a heavier sleeping agent, changed his clothes and imprisoned him in the cell. Why hadn't he been killed? Because of his father?

Thinking of his parent, Ichigo wondered where Isshin was. No where near he knew, because he was pretty sure Isshin wouldn't let his son get caged in a cell. Was he just outside, raging? He hoped he was. Right?

Shifting uncomfortably, Ichigo rubbed his right eye the best he could despite his useless left hand getting in the way. He sniffled quietly and realized that he was freezing. In a spasmodic motion he did his best to move his arm around his body. It didn't really work and he ended up crawling over to the filthy madras and grabbing the blanket. With a grim expression he laid it over his legs and leaned against the wall, not wanting to lie down so he couldn't see if any shadows of people appeared on the floor outside his cell.

As he sat there, waiting for hours for something to happen and doing is best not to think about his current situation, something got his attention. It was a smell other than the sweet smell of Soul Society that made his mind reel. It was some sort of strange mix between that and something foul, something rotten. It was the strangest mix between the two. A vizard.

Ichigo tried to get as close to the golden bars as he could, stretching the chain as far as it would go. He peered out and heard footsteps approach. One pair was marching steadily while the other dragged its feet as if limping. Ichigo waited, anticipation rising in his chest. Who was it?

Two shadows appeared on the floor in front of his cell and as they danced nearer, Ichigo's eyes strained in expectation as two people walked past rather briskly. Not believing what he had seen, Ichigo tried to get a better look, but he couldn't, the two already gone from sight. However, it seemed like the prisoner was placed in the cell next to him. That couldn't have been Shinji Hirako, could it?

From what Ichigo had managed to see, the other vizard had been bound, manacles around the arms and leg irons around his ankles with a chain linking them together. Ichigo could hear the guard push his prisoner inside the cell and probably tie him to the floor just like himself. The prisoner didn't seem to be struggling against it, which made Ichigo wonder if it really was the leader of vizard-group he had once known. There should have been a fight… right?

After a few minutes the guard left the way he had come and disappeared, not even glancing at Ichigo. Tugging at the chain, Ichigo called out.

"Hey!" Ichigo shouted, surprised at how low his voice was. Clearing his throat he tried again. "HEY!"

His voice carried further this time but it didn't seem like anyone had heard him, either that or he had been completely ignored. He screamed again, trying to get as close to the bars as he could. Eventually his screams where just that, shouts that he hoped would make someone come, wondering what the hell was going on.

Falling silent again at the sounds of something from the other cell, Ichigo swallowed uneasily, listening. But all sounds were gone as fast as they had been there, no indication that anyone was there at all. Nothing, aside from the smell.

"Shinji?" Ichigo called out, his voice failing him once more and he had to yell again so his voice would carry.

At first, Ichigo didn't think he would get any response and was about to shout again, but the rustling of chains indicated someone moving in the other cell. The sound was dampened by the walls, but it was there.

At first there was only a pained groan, then there was a strange raspy sound. "Hello? Who's there?"

That didn't sound like Shinji. But then again Ichigo hadn't heard the vizard's voice in a long time.

"Shinji?! Is that you?" there was a moment of silence and Ichigo didn't know what to expect.

"Who are you?"

"It's Ichigo!" he didn't stop to wonder why it took so long for his former friend to answer the simple question. Again there was a long delay.

"Kurosaki Ichigo?"

"Yes! You helped us with the inner hollow problem, remember?"

"No…"

Ichigo bit his lip. No? What did he mean; no!? Couldn't he remember? Wasn't it Shinji? It had to be.

"What's going on Shinji?" Ichigo tried, "How long have you been here?"

Not getting a response, Ichigo wondered if Shinji had either fallen asleep or fainted. "Shinji! Are you there!?"

"Yes! Yes… I'm here… Always here… Been here a long time." It sounded like he was ranting now, not really addressing Ichigo. "Many moons. How long? I don't know, don't remember. Twelve… fifteen moons? Must have missed some, I don't see them very often… What does that make it, Ichigo? A year or more?"

_Shit._ A whole year? No wonder he seemed so strange. Maybe if he talked a bit more it would jog his memory. Shifting where he sat, Ichigo tried to sit in a better way that didn't make his shoulder want to dislocate.

"Are you the only one here?" Ichigo asked, doing his best to pry out answers from the former leader.

"Only one…? No there are many people here… Many scientists!"

"Are there any other vizard here?" Ichigo clarified.

"Vizard? No, haven't seen any of them in a _long _time."

"What have they done to you, Shinji? The scientists?" He was getting desperate for answers, he needed to know what to expect. Or at least what might happened to him since it had happened to Shinji too. He was pretty sure he would fall for the same fate now that he was here.

"_Bad things,"_ suddenly Ichigo recognized Shinji's voice, "I'm not sure if you want to know, since you're here too."

"We have to know, we have to know what we are up against, what's going to happen!"

"Trust me, you don't want to know Ichigo, if you thought you had it bad before, you're in for a big surprise."

Ichigo didn't know what to say to that. But not caring for an answer, Shinji went on. It seemed as if his mind had come back from wherever it had gone before.

"I was captured when I was out getting groceries for the gang. Can you imagine? Twenty fucking shinigami suddenly rush in and drop down from the roof and came jumping through the bread shelves." Shinji chuckled as if it was funny, "I had no chance in the world. I barely managed to unsheathe my sword before it was knocked out of my hand."

"I didn't stay to pick up Sakande," continued Shinji, "I ran. I ran and jumped over shelves, shoved humans out of the way to escape. Or so I thought. I should have stayed inside, I know that now. How stupid I was… stupid, stupid, _stupid_…"

Shinji didn't say anything more, but Ichigo didn't need to hear more to understand that Shinji must have been faced with an army of shinigami outside the store and been captured somehow.

"I think the others are dead," Shinji went on. "Probably attacked by the same men as I was and killed instead of captured. Since they probably weren't stupid enough to drop their sword," Shinji's voice was stiff, unemotional. He had probably grieved for a year and coming to the conclusions it didn't make them any less dead.

Ichigo remained quiet, not wanting to hinder Shinji from saying what he wanted.

"Why are you here Ichigo?" Shinji asked instead. "To be honest, I thought the shinigami would make sure to kill you first?"

Not sure how to feel about that statement, Ichigo figured Shinji was buying time until he had to say what had happened to him in here. Not wanting to press the other Vizard for answers, Ichigo figured he might as well tell.

"The shinigami attacked us as well. But we managed to escape. We were on the run from shinigami for a year. I only managed to survive because of the help of my inner hollow. We escaped to Hueco Mundo where Aizen and the arrancar took us in."

"Aizen…?" Shinji asked, as if he had forgotten. "Oh, that guy… Ha! The reason I'm here!" he sounded as if he had looking for the name for months. He probably had. Ichigo wondered what the shinigami had done to him to loose so much of himself. "Yes… that was what the shinigami here told me… that they would keep me here until the war was over to make sure I didn't side with the enemy! What bullshit…" Shinji rant died in a painful and sharp inhale.

"But then you actually did that! I can't believe it!" Shinji went on with a shaky breath; starting to sound odd again and Ichigo didn't know what to say. "At least someone was smart enough to do that!"

"We don't know if we were that smart to do such a thing," Ichigo said, interrupting Shinji. "Neither Aizen or the arrancar wanted us. They were suspicious. We were shinigami in their eyes after all. But eventually they came around…" Ichigo swallowed again. He didn't like talking about the last part of his own story.

"Then we got infected with some… _shit_… and we were sent back to our father. My father took us back in, but when he couldn't cure us, he took us here. He hoped someone could help us. They seemed to want to help at first, but then the shinigami got sick too and they threw us in here…"

"I doubt they will cure you here, Ichigo," Shinji said seriously, "because what they do here is far from helping."

"What do they do to you?" asked Ichigo. He had to know, no matter how horrible it was. There was a long pause again and Ichigo wondered if he had to repeat his question.

"They take my life slowly. As slow as they as they see fit," Shinji started, his voice stiff. Ichigo recognised the tone, he'd used it a lot himself lately when he had to talk about dreaded things he didn't even want to think about.

"I think they slowly take the organs I don't need to survive," Shinji said. "I mean, I have less of them now, I can see the scars from the operations, feel the holes from where something used to be and I'm not dead yet."

Ichigo's eyes widened at that, and he swallowed uneasily without saying anything.

"But what's a big problem is that, they won't let me die," suddenly, what little edge and familiarity Shinji's voice had gained before was gone. "I am sure they just want to see me suffer or see how I react to pain. Maybe it's what they get their kicks from."

Ichigo didn't know what to say. Would he succumb to the lowest level of all and wish he was dead too? Was he himself just another type of hollow the shinigami wanted samples on?

However he didn't get to wonder for long, the presence of another shinigami approaching. Ichigo could hear Shinij making some sort of strangled noise. Was it fear of what was to come?

A dark shadow played across the hallway outside his cell and Ichigo swallowed uneasily, his mouth and throat a dry desert. It was a different shinigami than the one that had come with Shinji, the glow more intense and the invigorating smell even stronger. Ichigo's eyes rolled into his skull and unconsciously he bared his teeth.

The the golden barred door was opened and the shinigami entered cell. Without thinking Ichigo got to his unstable feet and did his best to keep his eyes on the male in front of him. At least he thought it was a man, it was hard to distinguish form the bright light and when the shinigami drew his sword, Ichigo moved away automatically. The growl in his throat escalated and Ichigo couldn't keep his eyes away from the weapon that burned like fire.

The prison guard made sure he had his katana pointed at Ichigo as he released the chain from the floor. Holding it in a firm grip, with a good length of it wrapped around his lower arm, he backed out of the cell, pulling Ichigo with him.

As soon as the hollow-boy was out of the cell, he kicked out and tried to pull free. He flared with his energy, roared and tried to tear away. He spun round, trying to tug the chain out from the shinigami's grip without any success.

Compensating with his own spirit-energy, the jailer pushed all of it over Ichigo before it too was evaporated into the walls. But Ichigo's energy was stronger and with a cry the orange haired boy lunged forward. With a quick flash-step the shinigami dodged, but just barely, having to slam himself into the wall to get out of the way.

Falling forward as his target moved out of the way, Ichigo stumbled as the chain around his hands didn't yield and Ichigo slammed into the wall face first with a pained groan. The dizzy-spells from before returned rapidly and Ichigo hissed again when the burning katana cut into the skin of his throat before he could move away.

Without much delay, the prison guard moved his free arm back, removing an easily accessible Tazer from a small pouch that hung from his belt.

Ichigo let out a strangled cry when the electric-shock short-circuited his nervous system.

He staggered forward, trying to move away, but the shinigami remained close. The Tazer delivered another fifty-thousand-volt kiss.

Ichigo embraced the filth on the floor. He rolled onto his back, his gaunt body twitching and his head rolled side to side, and he made noises that suggested he might be in danger of swallowing his tongue. Gawking at the shinigami and moving his mouth as if trying to speak, or just scream in pain, all that Ichigo managed to do was a thin squeal, a mere threat of sound, as if his esophagus had constricted.

Not sure how long the effects of the shock would last, hoping for at least a minute or two, the shinigami sheathed his weapon and put away the Taser. Warily and without a word, he grabbed the boy by the ankles and dragged him away. The spirit-energy from the shinigami's hands scorched Ichigo's skin and unable to kick out, Ichigo could only squirm and moan in protest.

After a few turns along long corridors, a white, heavy-looking door appeared. The jailer let go of Ichigo and unlocked the door with an unheard chant of Kidõ. The dark walls that engulfed the prison cells transformed into blinding, clinical white.

This time Ichigo was lifted up, the hands of the shinigami burning him as his upper body was heaved over the larger man's shoulders.

Eventually they stopped outside an seemingly unremarkable door. When it opened, Ichigo fought through his paralysis and started kicking as soon as he could glimpse the room he had been taken to. The boy didn't have much strength but he caught the shinigami off-guard and was dropped to the floor. As soon as he had slammed to the floor painfully, Ichigo tried to get to his feet and run.

But the cuffs binding his hands wanted differently and in a forceful thug of the chain his arms were pulled out in front of him and several white coated men grabbed at Ichigo's arms and body. With great struggle Ichigo tried to get out of the grip he was in, but his body wasn't responding well to his commands as the effect of the Tazer-blow still lingered.

He was lowered onto a cold steel table, the katana from before suddenly back at his throat. It cut at the strained tendons on Ichigo's neck and Ichigo did his best to keep away from the sword.

The pain that attacked him all at once was hard to fight against, the cruel hands grabbing at his thin legs, holding them down against the table before his ankles and his wrists were forced into tight straps to keep them down. It was the same with his thighs and upper chest. Struggling against them was useless Ichigo knew, the Kidõ in them making them almost impossible to break. But he couldn't stop; he had to get out, especially when the 12th Division Captain Mayuri Kurotsuchi towered above him.

"Hey! What's going on!?" demanded Ichigo.

Despite his screaming, the painted man turned around, pretending not to have heard the boy. He walked forward, where in front of him his group of scientists waited for their orders.

"We have had a slight out break in the hospital," Mayuri began, talking over Ichigo's screams, "this hollow had apparently been taken in for some sort for treatment of a disease."

Ichigo ceased his struggles and shouts, growing quiet to hear what the scientist had to say. "But it wasn't contained and it showed to be very contagious. The nurses that had taken care of it got infected by the same disease and are now quarantined in the outskirts of Soul Society to not infect any more people. We are to examine the hollow for a treatment."

Ichigo's jaw set at what he heard. _So Unohana had taken him here, _hethought and reminded himself never to trust anyone again.

Unable to hold back, Ichigo screamed, barred his teeth and hissed when Mayuri turned around and looked at him. The scream quickly escalated into a hideous roar. But most of the scientists seemed un-fazed by the boy's uproar. Some backed off, afraid of Ichigo, but most of them paid it no mind, used to dealing with hollows.

Snarling, Ichigo pulled at the restrains and his spirit-energy blasted out of him. The energy tore out of him, hard enough for rocks to start to fall from the roof and equipment in the room started to creak, ready to break from the pressure.

Many of the men in the room crumbled under the force, but the captain stood tall. Reaching for an item that lay on one of the working benches, Mayuri pushed a big red button on the small white device.

The screams from Ichigo stopped abruptly, the sound stuck in his throat, his eyes wide as his pupils contracted with pain as the collar around his neck was activated. Pain seared through his body and he cramped and twitched. It was like a thousand knives stabbed him at once and fear crept into his gut.

The memory of what Isshin had told him flooded his mind._ It was an interrogation tool from long ago, used at several trails as punishment._ It was Soul Societies invention to interrogate prisoners. Aizen had just stolen one from the place Ichigo was in now.

As he lay cramping with his eyes rolling into his skull, the pain in every part of his body abruptly stopped. Ichigo gasped for breath, dragged it harshly into his open chest, trying to make the agony stop.

Fear rolled over again like a tsunami, violent and harsh. The shinigami could activate the collar. It was something that hadn't crossed his mind. They could activate it at will. What the hell could he do now!?

It didn't really want to sink in, despite his burning throat, rasping chest and the gradually growing smile that spread across Mayuri's face, as if it were a wound being carved by a slow-moving and invisible knife.

Barring his teeth, Ichigo hissed fiercely at the man, the instincts in Ichigo's veins burning. But his threatening sounds were short-lived; the smile on the scientists face turning into a sneer and the tip of a syringe was forced into the crook of Ichigo's human arm.

It didn't take very long time before Ichigo felt groggy and his reflexes became sluggish. The anger he felt was washed over by fear as the instincts within dulled along with him. Ichigo knew the drug that paralyzed him; it was the same drug that Unohana's nurses had used on him. Of course Mayuri had it as well.

As in a daze he watched the scientist walk closer again, two of the men grabbing at Ichigo's right arm and pushed sceptically at his shoulder, the spikes there making Ichigo lie half on the side and his shoulder bend awkwardly. Ichigo tried to bite, but his head was pushed away and the scientist fingered at the protrusions and the hard bone-skin around it. With a low murmur among them, one of the scientists walked off and returned with a syringe.

The needle sank deep into the front of Ichigo's shoulder where the skin was still human. Rapidly the bone-skin near it started to soften and it folded more easily.

Despite almost being unable to move, Ichigo barred his teeth below the mask and hissed the best he could. But that didn't stop one of the scientists from grabbing a Kidõ-enhanced bone-saw and bone-rasps.

Ichigo's eyes widened at the sight of it and despite the drug still moving steadily through his body Ichigo thrashed in his restraints. He pulled and heaved with his hollow-fied arm, tried to kick with his legs and bite with his mouth, hoping the fangs on his mask would snap off a few fingers. Despite his efforts, there wasn't much strength in his weak limbs and Ichigo could only cry out when his head was forced back and strapped hard against the table he lay upon.

Putting on a pair of medical gloves and a mouth protection, the saw was brought down by the un-named scientist and carefully, yet firmly, he started sawing off the spikes on Ichigo's shoulder.

It didn't hurt, but it was extremely uncomfortable. The rasp's cold steel bumped into his neck from time to time and the sound it made when eating through his bone-skin was amplified as it bounced against the steel Ichigo lay upon. It was loud, making his only functioning ear go numb.

All the spikes fell off and were stored away in tight plastics bags for some unknown use. Unwillingly Ichigo couldn't help but to feel some sort of odd gratitude at what they had done, his will unable to stop his brain from appreciating the fact that with the spikes removed, he looked a little bit more human. It was odd, the mix of appreciation and extremely strong hate fusing together.

Now laying down properly on the examination table, the bonds holding Ichigo down were tightened even further. In a try to hiss again, Ichigo managed to drool on his chin, the drug he had been given seeming to be tenfold stronger than the one Unohana had used.

It made the edges blur and the world slow down. He twitched with his fingers and moaned lowly. Blinking, Ichigo looked around the room, not knowing what to focus on except the dots that swarmed his vision. He tried to blink them away without success.

But from what Ichigo could still tell the shinigami took samples from the fungus that grew out of his ear. When he tried to focus on the moving hands, it only resulted in an intense headache. When he felt odd pushing sensations in his ear, Ichigo clamped his eyes shut, knowing that they were cutting at the disease. But it wasn't until they moved downward that Ichigo realised that it had spread all the way down to his shoulder.

The murmurs from the scientist gave Ichigo no further idea of what was really going on and the longer he lay there, the harder the drug in his system numbed him. His eyelids were hard to keep open and Ichigo wondered if he had been given a strong sedative as well. Blinking, Ichigo looked away, unable to comprehend his surroundings any longer.

He tried to search the limited area he could see for weakness and he followed the cracks that had formed in the roof from his out burst. Maybe a well-aimed Bala would break it. But would a broken roof lead to escape? How high was the building? How far was he underground? He didn't know. Maybe Shinji knew. That was doubtful. But it wouldn't hurt to ask.

The prickling feeling around Ichigo's ear and neck stopped and most of the scientists passed Ichigo's line of vision and walk off to the left where Ichigo couldn't see. Two of them were holding two steel trays with clamps lying in them. Were they holding samples of the disease?

The scientists murmured amongst each other, seeming to discuss something with their Captain.

After a while they turned towards him again and Ichigo barred his teeth underneath the mask. Without a word they approached and Ichigo suppressed the urge to scream again when the strap over his head was removed. The manacles were put back over one of his wrists before the straps there where removed and quickly fastened both in the cold steel before Ichigo could manage to control himself enough to resist.

He moaned uncontrollably and sagged together in the sitting positing he was in and his head spun. He tried to get up, to get out the room, but it only resulted with him falling off the metal table he was seated on and landing in a heap on the floor.

"Take him back to his cell, we're done for now."

From the corner of his eyes, Ichigo could see the jailer enter again. Getting up on unstable feet Ichigo did his best to stand up without stooping and not look like the pathetic little boy he was. He straightened the little clothes he wore to cover himself better.

However the shinigami paid him no mind, hardly even looking at Ichigo when he pushed him forward with one finger, apparently not wanting to touch him more than necessary. Turning to face the man, Ichigo scowled at him and refused to move. Not taking it kindly, the shinigami drew his sword, having the tip of it pressed against Ichigo throat again before Ichigo could move out of the way. Knowing that the actions were a threat to kill him, Ichigo became placating.

"All right. Okay. We're cool," Ichigo slurred. Another nudge in the back motioned him to move forward and Ichigo complied, doing his best to get his body to do as he wished. He dragged his feet and had to support himself against the walls at times before he was forcefully shoved forward again.

They didn't walk for very long before a massive door appeared at the end of one of the many corridors. Behind it the tight, dark corridors loomed. The floor was a smooth grey stone, the walls a rough concrete. It was hard for Ichigo to keep moving, the urge just to lie down on the floor and sleep was overwhelming.

When the glowing bars to Ichigo's cell approached steadily, Ichigo stopped. He earned another shove, but Ichigo only bent forward, his upper body folding but legs remaining stiff. It earned him a hit in the back of the knees and a smack of the katana's hilt between his shoulder blades, and he fell.

Without much hesitation the collar of Ichigo's simple white scrubs was grabbed and forcefully yanked upwards, dragging Ichigo along the ground until he was inside the cell and halfway up the dirty madras. The chains that connect to the manacles around his arms was once more attached to the floor before Ichigo had even managed to sit up.

Feeling like he should have fought better, Ichigo pulled together. At first he did nothing, the feeling of failure getting the better off him. But eventually he called out for Shinji, hoping he'd still be in the other cell, but he got no response.

With a pang of emotion Ichigo marvelled at the fact that he truly was alonenow and slowly he realized that he would probably be used in painful experiments just like Shinji seemed to have been...

With a sharp intake of air, Ichigo tried to pull his arms out of the manacles, wanting nothing more than to escape before the real terrors that were to come started. Inhaling sharply and raising one of his legs and placing his foot between his hands onto the steel, Ichigo yanked with a harsh tug.

The scream echoed through the hallways, loud and sharp as Ichigo almost broke his own hands. Spirit-energy vented out of him unthinkingly for a second as pain seared through him, the end of the sharp steel cutting into his skin like a knife. There was a loud snapping sound too and at the sight of his dislocated thumb Ichigo grit his teeth. Breathing quickly through his nostrils, Ichigo wanted nothing else but to wriggle the now broken hand out of the restraints, but he couldn't move it, the shinigami poison from so long ago still paralyzing it.

Cursing and gritting his teeth even harder, Ichigo could both sense and smell men approach rapidly at his outburst. The two figures hastily opened the cage and without any warning the jailer used his Tazer and hit Ichigo in the side of his ribcage. It was not set on as high voltage as the first time but it was still having considerable effect on immobilising him.

Without any chanting, the other man, a scientist from the looks of his clothes, moved his hands in symbols. Panic gripped Ichigo and hastily he tried to get up and move away, yet he didn't even manage to get to his feet before Kidõ ensnared him.

While the six cane prison kept him firm in place, a second white clad man appeared. He was holding something in his hands, and it wasn't something Ichigo liked. It was a broad leather belt with large straps on the front. It was clear what their use was; to restrain movements of the hands.

Thrashing and venting out his spiritual pressure the best he could, Ichigo put up a fair fight and it took the men over half an hour and a high voltage of electricity to finally secure Ichigo's monster arm inside the restraining-belt that they had already managed secured around his hip. The belt in turn was fastened to the floor with a chain just like the manacles had been.

Once Ichigo was satisfactorily restrained to both the jailer and the two scientists, they left the cell before the Kidõ around Ichigo was released. When they were all out of sight it evaporated into the air and with a thud and a pained groan he landed face first.

Spending for what at least felt like an hour tying to get out of the new restraints, coiling and twisting, his elbows and face scraped against the hard ground as he turned like an impaled snake. Eventually he just lay on the ground screaming, not really sure how to cope with the infuriating anger that was growing into an inferno inside of him. Curses flared from behind his white hollow mask and slamming his face against the ground was a too temporary relief from reality. But eventually the inner fires subsided somewhat and set into a hot smoulder that would probably never stop burning.

Having come somewhat to his senses, he inhaled a strained breath and did his best to move his restrained hand enough to push himself to lie on the side. With a grunt he heaved himself up with his legs to get into a sitting position.

Letting out a deep breath, his body still shaking from the painful effects of the Tazer blows, Ichigo moved his shoulder slightly that was starting to throb, where the spikes had been removed. Swallowing uneasily and leaning back against the wall, it took Ichigo a long time to calm down and once he had, he didn't really know what to do.

The belt that held him was fastened at the back, so he couldn't see the three buckles keeping it together. Two buckles at each wrist-strap held his hands tightly against his hip. Even if Ichigo knew that he wasn't flexible enough, he still tried to bend forward and bite at the leather. It didn't work and he ended up falling over again.

Banging the back of his head against the sekki-sekki rock, Ichigo closed his eyes and tried to slow his breath. But it wasn't easy when knowing that now his means to escape had plummeted even closer to zero. Looking around at the grey walls Ichigo wanted to scream again but he kept it in, knowing that if he didn't he would probably be gagged and have the hole in his chest covered so he couldn't breathe properly. The thought of it made him uneasy and he crawled over to the mattress, buried his face in it and unwillingly fell asleep with his system full of drugs and chemicals.

**End of Chapter**


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